


Highlights of a Journey

by ChiliMT



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-01-27 14:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiliMT/pseuds/ChiliMT
Summary: This work is done out of pure self-indulgence. This is Aramis/Queen Anne story from a character's POV, based on the BBC The Musketeers version of the story. And as BBC [and Dumas actually] played havoc with actual history, I can't be too much bothered about it either. Warning: it's just romance and fluff.





	1. The Gift

_The Gift_

 

His eye for beautiful women never erred. And yet he can honestly admit, he never looked at her properly as a woman. She was the Queen. His duty as a King’s Musketeer was to protect the royal couple. Thus his eyes never strayed in her direction. Not until that day at Châtelet.

Even when Vadim grabbed her and put a pistol to her precious head, he still saw her as the Queen who needed his protection. He suspected that everyone’s eyes were on Vadim, he only looked at her. He still remembers how terrified she looked. And when the shooting started his only thought was to save her. Without a moment’s hesitation he jumped to her, pushed her to the ground and covered her with his body.

His journey had begun then.

It was not a journey that was a bed of roses. It was mostly filled with pain, remorse, guilt, deception, longing and disappointment. There were only glimpses of absolute joy, fulfilment and sheer happiness. If, however, all that led to this exquisite moment today, it was worth it.

He only truly looked at her when he was covering her body and sheltering her from possible harm coming from the fight. When the commotion stopped, his face was close to hers for the first time ever. Only then he noticed her full, heart-shaped lips, her smooth, delicate skin and he breathed in her sublime perfume. She was shaking with fear. He tried to soothe her, telling her that it was over, but she kept her eyes closed.

“Look at me, look at me,” he urged her. He had a first proper look into her beautiful, sky blue eyes as she slowly opened them. He was mesmerised. He forgot for a moment that is was the Queen, she was just a frightened, beautiful woman, trembling in his arms. “I’ve got you,” he told her in a soothing voice. She exhaled with relief and a shy smile. He could feel her shortened breath on his face. “So you have,” she finally replied with an enchanting smile. He likes to think now that it was that moment that changed his life forever and led him to today.

He realised that they were in a quite compromising position when his sense of decorum and reality came back. He apologised to her and helped her to get up.

“You’re hurt,” she said in a concerned voice and to his surprise, she reached towards his neck. If he was to be honest, he did not feel a thing, only hours later he saw in the mirror that he had a scratch just below his right ear and that there was some blood.

He thought her gesture very intimate and all of a sudden he felt that he should protect her from indecency and he should prevent it, even if the gesture was a natural result of her innate kindness. She was the Queen, he was just a soldier, so he reached for her hand and gently, slowly moved it away. All the time he could not take his eyes off her. He felt the urge to kiss her hand but fortunately the awkwardness of the moment was interrupted by Captain Tréville who came to inquire about the Queen and then led her away to her carriage. He was rewarded though as she was being led away, she turned her head and gave him a glance. He was smiling happily when Porthos approached him, “What are you so happy about?”

“A pair of gentle and kind eyes,” he replied, putting his hat on.

“There’s none of those here that I can see,” Porthos said gloomily. “What are you on about?”

He smiled at his friend but did not reply. And he was grateful that Porthos’s thoughts went quickly to other subjects.

He did not think about her much after this, so he was surprised at himself when her face floated before his eyes when his head hit the pillow. He smiled at the recollection of her lips and her eyes but his thoughts went no further and he quickly went to sleep.

 

VVV

 

Next day Tréville said that the Queen wanted to see the musketeers who were yesterday present at Châtelet. As Tréville and Athos were to meet with the Cardinal, Aramis and Porthos were sent to the Queen.

He silently wondered why she had summoned them. They were just performing their duties but then, her life was in danger for the first time, and perhaps that was why it meant more to her. He was in a good mood, he was looking forward to seeing her again. He had been on her guard detail before but he did not pay a particular attention to her as a person. He knew that she seemed pleasant, poised and of gentle heart. Her remarks to the prison commander on that day at Châtelet only proved further his assessment.

When she entered the room, he was struck by the realisation how exceptionally beautiful she was. He was amazed that he did not come to this conclusion earlier. He must have been blind. He never took his eyes off her now. He was never one for deep bows to his betters, so even bowing he had an ample opportunity to appreciate her graceful figure. She welcomed them with the phrase that was the music to his ears, even if he was not naturally boastful.

“Monsieur Aramis, the bravest of all King’s Musketeers,” she said smiling at him. He found it amusing that she had ignored the presence of Porthos completely. However pleasant it was to hear it, he had to correct her out of his natural humility. “Only amongst the bravest, Your Majesty,” he replied with a wide smile and straightened himself up to have an unobstructed view of her, even if Porthos was still inexplicably bowing.

She paused as if looking for the proper words. He waited with pleasant anticipation. He knew that she would not want them whipped for putting her in danger despite his humorous teasing words to Porthos earlier. Maybe Porthos took it too seriously and that was the reason he was still bowing.

Then she addressed him again. “Perhaps your friend will grant us a moment’s privacy,” she suggested. When Porthos grudgingly complied, she took a step towards him and asked him with concern if his wound still hurt. Considering that he barely even noticed having it there, he replied truthfully that it did not. But then he thought again and added hesitatingly, “Well, perhaps a little sore…” He rather knew than saw that Porthos was giving him the disapproving look but he could not resist. He hoped she would show her concern for him again.

And he was right, she looked worried when she gently touched his neck and kept her fingers there for longer that it really was appropriate. He caught his breath. “Poor, gallant Aramis,” she said in almost a whisper. He felt a shiver running down his spine. He was speechless. He did not remember when last the touch of a woman resulted in such a reaction in him. He was feeling dazed.

She reached behind her head and untied a ribbon of her chain with an elaborate, gem-encrusted cross. He did not fail to notice that that cross was previously hidden in between her breasts.

“Accept this gift,” she said formally. “As a token of your queen’s gratitude.” He bowed slightly and she reached around his neck, slowly tying up the ribbon. His eyes hungrily roamed her face… and her cleavage. He was still himself after all. She seemed to blush under his intense stare.

“May it keep you safe,” she said warmly, looking straight into his eyes. “Always.” He should have said something. He should definitely have said something but he was unable to find the words. He was fascinated by the closeness of her face to his, her perfume and her natural scent filled him to the point of dizziness. He could only look into her eyes. She definitely blushed this time and she lowered her gaze to avoid his hungry eyes. Then she smiled gently, still slightly embarrassed and left.

As soon as the door was closed behind her he raised the cross and smelled it. It carried her scent and it was still warm from the heat of her body.

Porthos’s voice broke the spell, “You know you were giving her ‘the stare’?”

“What stare?” he asked, trying to steer Porthos from that way of thinking. It was unsuccessful though as Porthos just looked at him menacingly in response.

“She’s a very attractive woman,” he said abandoning the defensive stance and all pretence, Porthos was his best friend after all.

“She’s not a woman,” said Porthos driving his message through with a stern look. “She’s the Queen.”

He had to admit that Porthos was right.

“Please, set your sights a little lower,” Porthos gave him a friendly advice as a parting shot. And again he had to agree with his friend. But something in him made him look thoughtfully at the door she disappeared behind. Queen or no queen she stirred something in him. Something that he could not place for now.

Later that day when he was sitting in the courtyard at the garrison, cleaning the pistols, his thoughts wandered to her despite himself. Did he imagine her blushing? She must have known or rather she must have felt something as he did when they were close. Surely she had, hadn’t she?  But then even if so, what either of them could do about it? The best explanation is that he imagined it all. And what he could do is to forget about her. Well, it was not the easiest thing to do. The cross he got from her was a constant reminder as it touched his chest with every movement.

 

VVV

 

He was once again in the guard detail when the King and the Queen decided, despite the warnings from Richelieu and Tréville about Vadim’s plot, to walk amongst the people after the mass.  His vanity was satisfied with her distinguishing him from the crowd, he noticed that she looked around and then stopped for a moment when her gaze met his. She even gave him a small smile before turning her head away. Some part of him wanted to watch her more but then his sense of duty brought him back to reality, and his eyes scanned the crowd for any possible assassins.

Then he heard something that froze his heart. “Death to tyrants!” rang from a man in the crowd.  He quickly placed him and rushed in his direction, but before he got there, another man stepped forward into the middle of the street with a bomb in his hand. He shot him without the hesitation. Then he aimed his second pistol at the man who shouted but the bastard hid behind a woman.

“Shoot him!” he heard Athos screaming at him. He hesitated, he might have been the best shot in the regiment but he was afraid to injure the woman the assassin grabbed and held in front of him. Then he fired aiming near the head of the assassin. It was a mistake. Assassin let go of a woman and hurled a bomb towards the place where the Queen surrounded by the musketeers stood. The King was already safely led to the carriage at this point. The bomb fell a few steps from the Queen and the fuse was sizzling. 

He run towards the bomb and covered it with his body trying to extinguish the fuse. He was not thinking, he heard as through the fog Porthos screaming at him, “No, Aramis, no!”

But it was not his day to meet his maker. The fuse fizzled out under him and the bomb did not go off. “It’s safe!” he cried towards Tréville and the musketeers rushed the Queen to the carriage. He looked towards her; as she was led away, she kept turning her head and was looking at him, the distress on her face was palpable. When he met her gaze, he reached for the cross and pressed it to his lips, thanking the God for saving her. He felt so alive then. What he did, he did instinctively and if he was to do it again, he would. It was not important, she was safe and that was important, he did his duty.

 

VVV

 

He had almost no opportunity to see her after that Sunday assassination attempt for a long time. He was not often on duty to the Louvre. And she did not grace him with a single look, thus he had some time to rethink few things. He came to the conclusion that he had mistaken her behaviour towards him for something more than her natural kindness and compassion for others, and he mistaken his feelings regarding her for something else than what it really was - his genuine sentiment, his deeply ingrained sense of duty. He was a King’s Musketeer, he lived to serve his King and his Queen. Nothing more, nothing less.

And then she walked into his life again in all her glory during the time of trial of Comtesse Ninon De Larroque. She informed the Cardinal of King’s decision that unless the Comtesse had confessed her alleged crimes voluntarily and not under torture, she was to be spared the death sentence. He smiled with a sincere joy on hearing it and he was absolutely convinced that it was she who was behind this decision and not the King. Especially since she came to this court room and not the King who after all arrived at this out-of-the way abbey, too.

He was mildly disconcerted however, that after her declaration the Queen turned her head abruptly in his direction and gave him a look of slight displeasure. Was he imagining things? Why would she be displeased with him? Nevertheless he had no time to dwell on the issue as the Cardinal had a fit caused by the poison. Despite his feelings towards the Cardinal, he rushed to the Cardinal’s side to check up on him.

Together with his friends, he took Richelieu to his chamber and gave the Cardinal an emetic trying to save his life. It seemed to work but there was still the issue of finding the poisoner.

Lost in thought, he crossed the internal courtyard only to be stopped by her voice. Unusually and against the court etiquette, she was alone. She inquired about the Cardinal and he was reluctant to provide her with the definite information as the Cardinal’s state was still precarious at that moment. She understood his hesitation differently. She acknowledged the fact that as the Cardinal was not particularly well disposed towards the musketeers in general, Richelieu’s survival was not of the highest priority to him. He was pleased to note that she perceived more than her husband. He respected and protected the King but His Majesty silliness, naivety and propensity to being manipulated did not escape his attention and that of his friends. The Queen was always considered as wiser than the King by the ever gossiping courtiers at the palace, even if she was universally despised for being of Spanish blood.

As ever a diplomat, he only replied that they were all servants of France. He bowed respectfully but never took his eyes off her, as was his style.

There was a sudden lull in their conversation and he was waiting politely for her to speak as there was clearly something on her mind. And it definitely was not the Cardinal’s health.

“I did not expect to see my gift to you on the Comtesse’s neck,” she finally said in a quiet voice, avoiding his eyes.

It was the gentlest of rebukes but it baffled him, he did not expect it and for once in his life he was speechless. He gave the necklace to the Comtesse because he wanted to comfort her, he wanted to assure her that the god, he believed in, would not let her down. He did it without thinking.

Then she asked, looking straight into his eyes, ”Is Ninon your lover?” She paused for a moment. “She is beautiful,” she added as if to say that she understood his interest in the Comtesse..

This had gone too far, he had to put an end to that notion. He found his words finally. “She is a good woman, facing a hideous death,” he tried to explain. “I only wanted to comfort her.” He hoped that his explanation was sufficient. For a moment he thought that he might have phrased it better, somewhat clearer but then he assumed that protesting too much would have been more suspicious.

Their eyes were locked, he did not know why it was so important to him that she would believe him.  He gave the necklace because that was his first thought that came to his mind as a form of support for a woman hounded by the Cardinal. Yet now, he could understand how the Queen could have seen it. That very private gesture of hers was important to her. And now it seemed like he gave away her gift like it was of no importance to him.

He noticed her eyes softening and a shy smile appeared on her lips.

“Forgive me,” she said in a quiet voice, she looked slightly embarrassed and her gaze strayed from him. “Your compassion does you credit.” Then she looked at him again with a kind smile and he internally sighed with relief; she was wise, kind and she trusted his words. He smiled back at her with warmth. Again she looked down in a visible embarrassment and then she walked past him. He did not take his eyes off her and was looking thoughtfully after the retreating figure.

He might have been prone to imaging things where she was concerned before. So he tried very hard not to read too much into the situation. In any other circumstances he would have been dead sure that she was jealous. He would have thought it about any other woman but again he was reminded of Porthos’s words. ‘She is not a woman, she is the Queen.’ Why would she have a reason to be jealous? There was nothing between them, was there? There could never be anything between them, they are worlds apart and he should not be even thinking about it. Thinking about it was a treason. He decided not to think about it then.

And yet his eyes strayed towards her whenever he was at the palace. She never looked at him. And that strangely pained him. When the Comtesse returned the cross to him he vowed to himself that he would never take it off, for anything, for anyone. It became somehow a sacred relic to him. Whenever he prayed, his prayer ended with kissing the pendant.

He did his best not to think of her. He tried to live his life as it was before, but for some reason nothing was as before. When he took Porthos for an adventure of seeking the patroness who would pay their entry fee for the competition between King’s Musketeers and Red Guards, he found himself doing it half-heartedly. He finally secured a rich widow but it was hard work, even if the lady was a pleasant looking woman. In the past it would have been just an enjoyable distraction, not anymore. He found it strange but decided not to dwell too much on the subject. It made him uncomfortable.


	2. The Night at the Convent

_The Night at the Convent_

 

For first few days he quite enjoyed their assignment. There was really nothing to do, apart from enjoying the nature. The Queen had her swims in the forest pool known for its powers of fertility, Athos and Porthos constantly teased d’Artagnan, and he listened to the birds and breathed the clean air.

But after two days he got bored. He missed Paris, the excitement, the noise, the danger. At one time he was tempted as a distraction to look at the Queen getting out of the water, as her bathing dress clung to her body and he was sure to see of her more than ever. But then his conscience stepped in and he chastely reverted his gaze from the spectacle. He had too much respect for her to debase her like that. So there he was back to the birds which by now started to annoy him. A lot. He was determined to shut them up now, he had enough of their trills.

And as he was aiming at one of them, the shot rang. It frightened him and as he said to the others that it was not him, it frightened them all. They rushed to the Queen’s tent. His heart went cold when he noticed a still figure on the ground with deadly wound through her heart. The Queen was killed on their watch. As they reached her, he turned her over and was immensely relieved to see it was not the Queen, even if he was mortified to see that one of Queen’s ladies in waiting was dead. At that moment the Queen showed at the opening of the tent. He was never more overjoyed at seeing her face than then.  But the Queen was in mortal danger as someone clearly wanted her dead. Lady Caroline was killed because she wore the Queen’s robe. They all sprinted into action.

It turned out however that it was not a lonely assassin, there was a numerous group of military looking men, determined to murder their queen. They run through the woods to their horses and were fortunate to lose their attackers, but they were certain they would be followed.

The only problem was that they had only four horses for five of them. He saw that Athos was about to say something so he prevented him from whatever Athos wanted to convey. “My horse is the strongest, I would suggest that Your Majesty should ride with me,” he said looking at her decisively, he tried to ignore the surprised looks that Athos and d’Artagnan exchanged.

“How did you work that out?” asked Porthos. Truth be told, if any of the four horses was the strongest it was the one rid by Porthos. After all it had to endure his big friend on its back.

“Well,” he answered, slightly perturbed. “Just look at it.”

Porthos was about to respond but was stopped by the calm voice of Athos, “There’s no time to argue it now. D’Artagnan, help Her Majesty.”

Thus he found himself having the Queen again in his arms, she smelled of trees and flowers.  He knew that under that cape and her bathing dress she wore nothing and he had to fight with his head conjuring up all sorts of images. If their lives were not in peril, he would have been the most contented man in France.

They travelled slowly, partly to accommodate the Queen’s inconvenient ride, partly to make sure they were not followed. At one time she half turned to him and asked what would happen if they were not able to lose their persecutors. Despite his misgivings about their situation, he tried to comfort her with his brave face and even offered her a reassuring smile. She smiled wanly back and as soon as she turned her head, his face was again of someone anxious for their safety. It was enough that the musketeers were uneasy, it made no sense to scare the Queen too.

As it seemed at one point that the murderous riders were nowhere in sight, Athos ordered a repose. They did not need it really, but they were all worried about the Queen. They found a nice, quiet spot. He looked at the Queen, she seemed embarrassed and she hardly looked at anyone. He thought that he could easily understand her awkwardness. Her dresses and sophisticated coiffures were her battledress, now she only had her flimsy bathing dress and even more flimsier cape on her shoulders, her hair was let down. To him she looked more beautiful than ever but he understood that she felt vulnerable.

“I’m so hungry, I could eat the horse if we didn’t need it,” said Porthos grumpily.

He smiled at this, he knew his friend well, if hungry, he will become the most annoying company soon. “I can try to get some fish from the stream,” he offered with the smile.

“How?” Porthos’s brow was furrowed.

He raised his hands and waved them at Porthos. The gesture only received a scoff from his friend and a ‘madman’ murmured under his breath.

He smiled, amused by Porthos’s grumpiness, turned on his heel and walked resolutely towards the stream. He took off his boots, his trousers, his shirt and his coat, he did not want to get them wet when he walked into the stream. He was more than fortunate. The stream was full of fish, he was very focused and thus was rewarded by catching three fish already.

Then he heard her voice offering her help. He regarded her with pleasure. ‘Dear god, she is so beautiful,’ he told himself. In this sunlight, coming through the tree branches, she looked absolutely angelic, she was a feast for his eyes and he had to admonish himself as his eyes were eager to roam all over her but very determinedly he ordered himself to look just into her eyes. 

She was smiling shyly. At first he suggested that she should rather take her rest while she could but apparently she was determined to help. Without thinking he proposed gutting the fish; her face said everything and he would laugh were it not too disrespectful. His other suggestion of helping Porthos to gather the wood was received gratefully. She smiled at him, thanked him and even offered to cook. He could not take his eyes off her and watched her retreating figure thoughtfully. In offering her help she acted as no other queen he ever saw. Or anyone of noble birth for that matter. Her kindness and eagerness not to be a burden melted his heart. She was unique, in many respects.

Her cooking skills were non-existent though. She burned the fish nearly to ash. It was hardly surprising, he was sure she never really did anything that could be done by others. He saw the faces of his friends as they tried to find anything eatable left of the fish. Porthos’s face was especially amusing. However, he felt that she needed to hear something good and it was highly unlikely that she would hear it from other musketeers. “Delicious, Your Majesty,” he said to her. It was met with grateful and the most brilliant smile from her.

And then they heard the distant rumble that meant their pursuers were getting closer. It was more than good fortune that they saw the convent. Athos sent Porthos and d’Artagnan back to Paris for reinforcements; Athos, the Queen and he were to stay at the convent.

He still thinks with pain that he did not recognise Isabelle, or sister Heléne as she was then called. He never even recognised her voice when he was talking to her. The truth was that he never expected to see her again, and her face and her voice were almost obliterated by time from his memory. Thus he was shocked when he realised it was truly her. It was hard for him to focus as all the memories rushed in.

Athos posted him in the antechamber of Mother Superior’s room as it had the best views over the land. He watched if their enemies would appear but his thoughts were elsewhere. He hardly noticed when the Queen entered the room and put some charges into his bullet purse. She asked about Isabelle, maybe not directly but she had suggested that her coming to the cellar was an inconvenience to the tête-à-tête between him and the nun. He assured her that she disturbed nothing. She seemed not to believe him. “I may be cosseted, but I’m not a fool,” she replied haughtily. He decided to tell her the truth. In fact, he was rather relieved that he was able to share his story with someone who really listened to him.

He explained simply that he knew the nun once. That they were to be married. The Queen asked if he changed his mind. He knew then that he explained it badly. He finally turned to the Queen to face her. “She fell pregnant and the marriage was arranged. I was happy, I was in love. And so was she. But then she lost her child and her father took her away and put her in here.” He paused. “I never saw her again. Not until today.” Her face looked saddened and she was about to say something when Athos came in and the shooting had started. Athos took the Queen to the chapel to join the nuns.

The attack was fierce but thankfully to the fact that both Athos and he took the best positions to shoot and that the nuns showed their inventiveness, the attackers were repelled for now. Isabelle came to the room with homemade bombs. So he took the opportunity to talk to her again. He told her that he looked for her but her father did not budge and did not give up the name of the place she was taken to. He was not ready for the next shock he received. It appeared that Isabelle asked her father to do it. It was her choice. And what was more disturbing she did not remember their story as he did. She was convinced that what happened to them was for the best. She found her vocation in the convent and he was happy as a soldier. She knew that they would not be happy together.

He did not want to believe what he was hearing. All this time he thought that her father deprived them of their happiness together and there she was, crushing this belief of his. She thought  they were much happier now, she as sister Heléne and he as a King’s Musketeer. He could not reconcile it with what he always held as true. And yet she seemed sincere and fully convinced that she was right. He did not know what to think of it all.

He needed to know more. Did she not love him? He went after her to the cellar. Then he found her fighting off the soldiers that somehow got through the window to the cellar. Yet he was too slow and too late as one of the soldiers shot her. After he dispatched one of the assassins to his god or to hell, he rushed to her. She bravely killed the other assassin but she was dying in his arms and there was nothing he could do. He could not stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes and he sobbed bitterly. But he had to check himself as the others came to the cellar. He wiped his tears and stood up. He felt the Queen watching him, he looked quickly into her eyes and saw the pity and sorrow but he had no time to wallow in his loss.

The thoughts came back later in the evening, when he was alone at his post and the Queen slept in Mother Superior’s room. He could hear the assassins’ hammers as they were building something, obviously preparing themselves for the attack.

Isabelle’s words rang in his ears. She did not believe him to want the marriage and a peaceful life in the province. She knew he craved the adventure. And she was right, he was deceiving himself. All those years he held her on a pedestal as some kind of ideal but now he saw that it was just an excuse for not settling down. He was just a sixteen years old boy when he thought himself in love. He loved her then, but would he be truly happy? It was as he saw himself for what he was for the first time. He despised himself at that moment.

Suddenly he heard the Queen asking what they were building. He did not know himself so he could only offered the guess of battering ram or ladder. He thought she went back to sleep so he was surprised to hear her voice closer. He looked up and saw her standing in the doorway.

She started to tell him about her own loss of a child, her futile plans and her acute pain at the loss. He understood that she was trying to comfort him by sharing her own painful memory and he was somewhat grateful but the distaste he felt for himself did not go away. Nevertheless, he could not appreciate the candidness of her story. It must have been extremely painful but she bravely recounted what happened to her in order to comfort him in his loss. Her gentle, kind heart was showing once again. He was but a mere soldier, she was the Queen and yet she cared for him. He was deeply touched by this.

And then she said that even after all those years she never forgot that baby as she was sure sister Heléne never forgot about him or his baby.

He knew she meant it kindly but she did not know the full story, and he was sure he did not deserve her kindness. So he admitted to her that for many years he thought Isabelle being the only woman to make him happy and yet it was a lie. “She was right to stay away from me,” he said in the end bitterly.

“No, Aramis,” she said gently and walked towards him, then she kneeled before him and she put her hand on his arm. He was still too much into his grief of the lost dreams to notice that she broke all the rules for him that were appropriate for a queen. Her kind heart took over.

“You are brave,” she began. He almost scoffed at that and turned his head away. It seemed so unimportant. “And honourable,” she continued, “and kind.” Her words began slowly to sink in. He started to turn his head back to face her.  “Any woman would be fortunate to be loved by you,” she added softly. He finally looked at her searchingly. The wave of emotions rushed through him. Every thought he ever spared her came back and flooded his heart. There she was, this extraordinary woman, saying the kindest, the most generous things to him. And suddenly he felt that the only thing he ever truly wanted was to take her into his arms and keep her there for eternity. He watched her lips as if they were his salvation and he almost leaned to kiss her but his conscience woke up again and stopped him from doing it. He looked into her eyes and again he almost kissed her but the thought that what he wanted to do was treason prevented him from doing so. And yet he was certain that he saw in her eyes that she wanted it too. He needed her either to say it or give him a sign that the kiss was welcome. It had to be her decision. Hers only. He would do anything she wanted him to. And then he saw it, this tiny gesture where she leaned towards him and he was quick to meet her halfway.

When their lips met, he felt the fireworks going off in his head. Her lips were soft, warm and sweet, and most importantly she was kissing him back with all the intensity he felt. It was as if the heavens opened and he was rushed in into the world of pure ecstasy. He held her head in his hands as the holiest of relics and wanted to kiss her again and again until the end of days.

But then she pulled away from him and his heart almost broke. He understood. She came to her senses and she wanted to end this indiscretion as soon as possible. And yet her hand was still sliding down his chest as the last remnant of their closeness. God, he wanted her so much then. However if that was all he was to have of her, that kiss will last him a lifetime.

She surprised him then as she gently took his musket from his lap and put it away. She got up from her knees and stood before him expectantly. He followed her example and now he was not waiting for her approval, he claimed her lips again and put his arms around her, pulling her close to him. As they kissed, his hands roamed freely over her and so did hers. He motioned her slightly with his body towards the bedroom and she instinctively complied. Now there was an urgency in their kisses as he slowly pushed them onto the bed. Their kisses were hungry and impatient. But at one point he broke the kiss and pulled his head away slightly to look at her. He knew exactly what he wanted but wanted to be sure they both want the same.

“Your Majesty…” he began.

“Don’t call me that now, Aramis,” she said, catching her breath.

“What would you like me to call you then?” he smiled at her.

She avoided his gaze. “I do have a name,” she replied quietly.

He thought for a moment. “Ana,” he whispered. He knew instantly that he chose well, using the Spanish version of her name, as her lips broke into the sweetest of smiles and her eyes glistened.

She looked at him with such warmth that he had to claim her lips again, he deepened his kiss and she moaned into his mouth, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You’re trembling,” he stopped again and looked at her concerned. She might have changed her mind after all.

She exhaled nervously. “I’ve never been kissed like that before,” she replied with disarming sincerity and smiled shyly.

“Ana, if you want me to stop,” he said looking deeply into her eyes, “just say a word.”

“Do you really think anything could be stopped now?” she replied, breathing heavily.

He responded with a growl of desire and lunged into a deep, hungry kiss. Then he moved his lips to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. When his mouth encountered the fabric of her dress, he moved his hand and slowly slid down the strap of her gown off her shoulder, revealing her breast. She caught her breath but she moaned softly his name when his lips caressed her nipple. When he moved to the other breast, he felt her fingers in his hair. His kisses kept moving down as his hands were slowly revealing her body from under her dress. He finally got rid of the dress altogether.  He then stopped kissing her and sat up while his eyes devoured her luscious shapes.

She looked embarrassed by his intense stare, she crossed her legs and put her arm across her breasts. He gently took away her hand and kissed her palm lovingly, “You’re even more beautiful than I had imagined.”

“Imagined?” He saw something in her eyes that looked like a worry.

“I apologise,” he said gently. “It sounded disrespectful.”

She looked at him searchingly then she sat up and kissed him very hard. She even ventured to slip her tongue into his mouth and it was his turn to moan.  Her hands tugged at his shirt until she got it out of his trousers and a shiver run down his spine when he felt her hands on his skin.

When she took off his shirt, he was too impatient to wait so he quickly stood up and took off his boots and trousers as fast as he could.

She watched him undressing demurely but when he finally was naked she reached for him and he ecstatically hid in her embrace. As he was kissing her sweet lips, he vowed to himself that would worship her body tonight, making sure that her pleasure was of utmost importance. This night was all about her and she deserved it all. Therefore, he began his journey down her body, albeit reluctantly leaving her lips. He placed the softest and the most tender kisses on her silky skin until he reached her core. As he gently spread her legs, he glanced at her to see her reaction. Her face showed a surprise but was full of pleasant anticipation.

His expert labour of love brought her to the brink and she was collapsing in frenzy all around him. He needed to see her face so he slid upwards. He was rewarded with a vision of unabashed pleasure that made him the happiest man alive. That was the exact moment when he realised that he was hopelessly in love with her. He loved before but this felt different. He felt complete.

Her eyes were closed. “Look at me, look at me,” he urged, recalling the moment they were this close for the first time. She slowly opened his eyes and whispered, “Aramis.” Her eyes were full of warmth, he did not dare to think there was anything more. “Ana,” he whispered back. Trying to put in this tiny word all the emotions he felt. This small word was his declaration of eternal devotion. He could only hope that she understood him. He sealed his declaration with a tender kiss, that quickly got very intense. He wanted to be in her, to be as one. He reached with his hand to stimulate her but she was more than ready, so he swiftly slid into her and they both gasped in unison. His movements were unhurried at first yet powerful and in due time they both reached their _petite mort_ almost at the same time.

As they lay in each other’s arms, her hand was softly caressing his many scars. He was just looking at her beautiful face.

“Your life is in a constant danger, it seems,” she whispered. “Are you ever afraid?” She gazed into his eyes.

“Sometimes,” he replied sincerely. “But then, I have my friends with me and I know they will always watch my back.” He smiled at her. She smiled back but with a tinge of sadness.

“You are so lucky to have friends,” she said wistfully.

“Surely you have friends at the court.” His hopeful statement was met with slight smile.

“You don’t know much about life at the palace, do you?” She said it jokingly but he saw the sadness in her eyes. It was true, he never really thought about the court life. Only now he realised how lonely it must have been for her. From the whispered snipes at her, muttered with malicious pleasure by the courtiers, when he happened to overhear them, he knew that they almost unanimously despised her for being Spanish. Painfully he recalled how often the King himself behaved towards her with disrespect. He remembered that he noticed many times how sad and alone she looked whenever she was by the King’s side. He was ashamed now that he never thought of it before. He heard the slights from the King and others but he never once thought how she would feel being at the receiving end of it. At those times, he only formed an unfavourable opinion of the King and courtiers, when he should have thought of her.

“Is it that bad?” he asked softly, pulling her even closer to him.

“Of course not,” she replied and smiled, even if her eyes were not smiling. “I’m more fortunate than most, you have to agree. I’m the Queen after all, I have beautiful dresses and jewellery, I can eat whatever my heart desires, I spend my time in splendid palaces and parks. It would be blasphemous to complain.” She kept her brave face, although her eyes glistened.

“Ana,’ he said lovingly. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her deeply. If there was anything he could do, he would but at least at this moment he could make her happy. Their intense kiss soon led to another bout of lovemaking. Not the last one that night.

 

VVV

 

He woke feeling a little dizzy. He overslept, he planned to be at his post before the dawn. The bright light behind the window was the ultimate proof that he failed.

Ana’s head was laying peacefully on his chest and her breath was even. She was still asleep. They finally fell asleep late in the night and he had no heart to wake her up. And yet if he was to resume his post he had to. Then he heard the slow steps approaching and he finally saw Athos in the doorway. The look of anger and disappointment on his friend’s face said it all.

Now he just had to wake her up. “Ana,” he whispered. She did not even stir. He tried again but he did not want to raise his voice. This time however, she moved slightly and a happy smile broke on her face. Without opening her eyes, she moved her face towards him and he could not resist and kissed her, she responded enthusiastically. Were it not for Athos’s surprising visit, that kiss might have led to something  treasonous, which they were guilty of during the night.

He broke the kiss with all the willpower he could muster. “Ana, I have to get up. It’s morning already.”

She finally opened her eyes, smiled and nodded in agreement. ‘I wish I could wake up next to her every day until the day I die,’ he told himself. But it was just a dream and he knew it. On the other hand, he might die today so in a quirky way his dream would come true. He gave her a quick kiss and got up.

 

VVV

 

He walked quickly to Athos’s post. At first Athos did not comment and only gave him a casual remark that he could not see what the assassins were building.

But he knew that the matter of what Athos had seen had to be confronted. “About what you saw…”

“I didn’t see anything because I’ve been here all morning,” responded Athos quickly. “And so I couldn’t possibly have seen anything. You understand?”

He decided that it was better not to comment so he swiftly changed the subject to the thickness of the walls of the convent that should keep them safe. He was relieved that Athos was content to avoid the touchy subject. He was wrong.

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU SLEPT WITH THE QUEEN,” Athos suddenly cried in angry whisper.

“I thought you didn’t see anything,” he replied. He should have known it was coming. Although he wanted to, he did not think it appropriate to correct Athos. He did not sleep with the Queen, he made love to her. That was quite a different matter. But then he did not find it necessary for Athos to know that.

As usual, Athos relatively quickly reverted to his usual calm tone of voice. “They’ll hang you,” he said matter-of-factly. ‘And then they’ll hang me for letting it happen.”

“Or there’s a chance that we will be killed here and we’ll take it to the grave,” he said to Athos, trying to use his natural charm.

“That’s a comfort,” Athos returned to his own sarcastic self.

“So you’re good?” he asked nervously. He was anxious to come back to her.

Athos nodded resignedly. “Shout if you need me.”

“Why would I need you?” he replied flippantly and quickly left the room. Thus he was spared the wrath of Athos, as he presumed that coming.

The walk back was the short one but he made a decision that he needed to talk to Ana before they faced the world and to warn her that Athos had seen them.

However, as he entered the room, he saw that she was already dressed and her demeanour had changed. She was not this beautiful, carefree woman that he left languidly stretching on the unmade bed. She seemed as poised as the day before, before anything between them happened. His Ana was gone, it was the Queen sitting on the bed, fixing her sandal. She looked at him expectantly.

“Your Majesty should probably wait with the nuns,” he suggested in his most respectful voice. Was there a flicker of annoyance on her face that he saw as he said that?

After a moment’s pause she replied that she would stay there and help him. And to quell his protests, she pointed out that it was her decision as the Queen and that it was probably safer there with him than with the unarmed nuns. She said it quite firmly but then she gave him a smile, different smile, her trained one. Nevertheless he smiled back with a slight bow.

“There is however one thing, that I have to tell you,” he said hesitatingly. “Athos has seen us.”

Her smile disappeared , she looked down for a moment but then straightened out and gave him a quick nod.

He took his post and she followed him and stood behind him. After a moment she said, “I presume there is a high chance that I may not survive this day?”

He turned his head towards her and looked into her eyes, “Only if I don’t survive, Your Majesty.”

Suddenly Athos run into the room, followed by the Mother Superior. Apparently the assassins were breaching the walls and they had to hide the Queen in the least accessible place. The Mother Superior suggested the cellar, so there they went.

There were some anxious moments in that cellar and when they had only two balls left, he was preparing himself for the worst. His only thought was to keep her safe. He did not quite know how to achieve that.

The arrival of the musketeers was a huge relief to everyone. She saw her sincere smile when she saw Captain Tréville. And then she looked at him, extending her happy smile to him too. He was just happy she was alive and well. He was losing his Ana, but he still had the Queen.

 

VVV

 

It was decided that they will travel back on horseback to meet halfway the carriage that was sent from Paris. And as again there was no spare horse, d’Artagnan led the Queen to Aramis’s horse without asking anyone.

Athos gave him a murderous look as he watched d’Artagnan helping the Queen to mount the horse. He only shrugged in response, but deep down he was glad that he had this last opportunity to be that close. From now on he would be able to see her only from afar. And he was certain that Athos would make sure of it.

They rode in silence for a long time. Especially as Athos made a point of riding near them all the time. He was almost annoyed with Athos. What did he think could have happened when they were riding?

Fortunately at one point, the Captain waved at Athos to ride with him and Athos could do no more but he gave Aramis a meaningful look as he moved further away.

He was thinking if he should risk of facing another outburst from Athos and talk to her. He decided against it, but then a sudden thought came to him. “Why me, Your Majesty?” he whispered, hardly moving his lips so that no one would notice it.

She stiffened and moved away so her back and her arm no longer leaned onto his chest. The sudden lack of her gave him pain.

“How could you even ask that, Monsieur?” she whispered back icily. “How could it be anyone else?”

He suddenly realised that he had asked the most stupid question possible and he offended her. If he could, he would slap himself hard in the face. Very hard. In fact he would ask Porthos to do that.

He let go of the reins for a moment and his right hand landed on her waist. He pulled her closer, back into him just as she was before. For anyone observing, and he was sure that Athos was watching them closely, he just adjusted her to fit better on the saddle. He felt her resistance, he did offend her.

He whispered into her hair with fevered earnestness, “Forgive me, I beg of you, forgive me… Ana.” He felt her muscles relaxing a bit. “I don’t even know what I meant and why I asked that. I am the most fortunate man in the whole wide world but apparently very stupid one. Please, forgive me. Causing you pain is the last thing I want. Please, Ana.”

After a moment she leaned into him but did not say a word.

They rode for a bit in silence. Then he saw her carriage in the distance. Before they were to be parted, he knew that he had to say something that lingered in his mind.

“Forgive me again, Your Majesty, I need to say it as much as it pains me to do so,” he whispered and he felt her body stiffened. “It can’t happen again. It’s not safe for you. We were both vulnerable last night. And we gave each other comfort. Much needed comfort. You made me deliriously happy. And yet we both know that it can’t happen again.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Therefore I suggest we should promise each other not to talk about it again or seek each other’s company on purpose.”

Even saying that resulted in a painful spasm that run through his body and he closed his eyes in anguish. She remained silent though.

They stopped as they were awaiting her carriage, and then they waited some more for it to turn in the opposite direction. In all that commotion, he suddenly heard her faint voice. “I want you to know that, whatever you may think, what I did, I did not do out of compassion, desperation or pity.” She glanced at him quickly. He felt like he was struck by lightning and he opened his mouth to say something. “No,” she whispered firmly, looking towards the carriage, “don’t say anything, I forbid it. I don’t want to hear anything that you feel obliged to say because of what I said. And I agree to your suggestion.”

She then turned her head and looked deeply into his eyes. It lasted but for a moment yet he saw raw emotions in her and despite the fact that she forbade him to answer, once again he opened his mouth to respond but was prevented by Tréville who at the very moment walked to them and offered to help her in dismounting and then led her to her carriage. She did not turn back once.

“What happened?” Athos’s voice woke him up from his stupor. He could clearly hear the concern in his friend’s voice.

“Nothing,” he replied finally. “There’s absolutely nothing you need to worry about.” He gave his friend a smile, but was careful that Athos would not notice that his smile did not quite reach his eyes because his heart was heavy.

 

 

 


	3. The Dauphin

_The Dauphin_

 

The ride back to Paris was slow in progress. It gave him plenty of time to think over all what happened to him yesterday.

He lost someone who was a very important memory but then he found someone who became the most important person in the world. He always loved women, but he was very rarely in love. Other two times when he was in love, he felt happy, exuberant and hopeful for the future. True, both times it ended badly. Isabelle was dead and Adéle chose the Cardinal, as he thought at the time. Nevertheless, the beginnings were full of promise. Not this time though. For obvious reasons this love seemed doomed from the start. Not only in all probability it was not reciprocated but it was a treason, something that he never considered happening to him.

Yet it seemed so clear to him why he fell in love. She was not like any woman he had ever known, she just dazed him. But he had to face the truth, all that did not really matter, she was the Queen and he was fated to love her from afar, their night together was to be his only happy memory.

Athos brought his horse closer again. “There are some things that need to be clear,” Athos said in his usual, emotionless voice. “We both try to forget that you had slept with the Queen.”

“It was more than that, Athos,” he interrupted.

“Nevertheless,” Athos continued unperturbed, “we will forget about it like it never happened. Secondly you will stay away from the Queen as much as it is feasible. And lastly, what we will focus on now is finding the proof that the Cardinal was involved in the assassination attempt. Is that understood?”

“I understand,” he replied quietly.

“I need more from you than just your understanding,” said Athos through his teeth.

“That’s all I can offer now.” He was saved from the certain wrath coming from his friend as Porthos and d’Artagnan got nearer to them.

“What are you two whispering about?” asked Porthos.

“The Cardinal and his mysterious lady,” he replied quickly. He was unhappy to lie to Porthos but limiting the number of people who knew about him and the Queen to the absolute minimum was the guarantee of her safety and that was paramount in his thoughts. After all, she committed treason, too.

 

VVV

 

They finally entered Paris and headed for the palace. There they waited for the Queen to change into more appropriate clothes. Tréville wanted them to stay and escort the Queen when she would meet the King.

He could see that Athos was not particularly happy about it but he was relieved that his friend restrained himself from commenting. As for Aramis, he was readying himself for the last opportunity of seeing the Queen up close for a very long time, he was certain that Athos would try his best to make sure he would not be seeing the Queen.

They saw her coming from her chambers, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting. She was back in her armour - her elaborate dress and even more elaborate coiffure. She did not look at him once even if she graced Tréville and Athos with pleasant smile.

Their party entered the throne room just as the King’s party was coming in from the other direction. He watched the King and the Cardinal closely. The King seemed to be happy to see his queen. And when they finally got closer His Majesty eagerly kissed her hands and her forehead. He knew it was irrational and unreasonable but he felt a pang of jealousy seeing the familiarity shown by the King towards her.

She had her back to him so he could not see her reaction, but when she turned and faced them he could not take his eyes off her. She looked confused and somehow lost. She reminded him of a little bird that was put in a birdcage, not understanding where its freedom had gone.

The Cardinal informed the King in a loud voice that he had apprehended the culprits, some Count Mellendorf and his daughter were in the Bastille. The cheek of the man! However, the King congratulated the Cardinal and forced everyone to give Richelieu an ovation. As she was politely clapping her hands, she suddenly looked straight into his eyes. He missed those eyes so much and it had only been few hours.

He tried to read her face, what he thought he saw almost broke his heart. She was saying goodbye and she was distraught. He could only comfort himself with the thought that perhaps he was not entirely indifferent to her. But he felt that this episode of his life had just ended.

Unhappy and angry at the world, when the royal party left the room, he relieved his frustration in urging his friends to confront the Cardinal. They convinced him, however, that the time of reckoning would come when they had a proof of Richelieu’s duplicity.

 

VVV

 

However, over three months passed and they did not manage to find any concrete proofs to condemn the Cardinal. Instead they planned their different schemes to entrap him. That involved a lot of wine and deep conversations stretching long into the night. It suited him, he could focus on something else. To the eyes of the rest of the world he was the same Aramis, happy, full of energy and with a gentle sense of humour. The only times he took off this mask was when his head hit the pillow. She was in his prayers and in his thoughts. Athos was very diligent in keeping him away from the palace. In all this time he only saw her once from afar as she was walking with her ladies in the gardens. She seemed her usual self, his heart was aching for her but he finally accepted that this was the price for the short moment of happiness.

In the meantime, his mind was embroiled in the scheme they came up with and to which they all agreed. To entrap Milady de Winter and the Cardinal, they devised a plot where d’Artagnan was supposed to have killed Athos. It seemed to work, as the news of Athos’s death spread and reached the Queen, she demanded personal explanations from Tréville.

He was the only one in the courtyard, waiting for the return of their Captain. When he finally saw the familiar figure on a horse, he ran towards him.

“What did the Queen say?” he accosted Tréville before the Captain even dismounted his horse.

“What’s the urgency?” asked Tréville surprised.  

“Just tell me, Captain.” He was starved of news of the Queen and this was the best he could get.

Tréville slowly explained that he had to divulge their scheme to the Queen, that she took it well and eagerly agreed to participate. He smiled at this, he trusted her wisdom and judgement. She was so much better at this than the King.

“The Queen also asked me to keep it secret from the King,” continued the Captain. “I feel uneasy about that part, if I’m honest.”

“It’s a wise choice,” he replied in her defence. “Until we have a full confession it would not be practical to tell the King.” He felt almost jealous of Tréville that he had the opportunity to talk to her one on one.

 

VVV

 

Their scheme worked even better than they had expected. The Cardinal felt cornered and thus he fell into their trap easily.

For the promise of getting a letter of confession from Gallagher, the leader of hired assassins, the Cardinal spelled it all out loud and clear.

“The Queen is barren,” he spat his fury into Aramis’s face. “If the King dies without the heir, France will be plunged back into the civil war. Is one woman’s life worth sacrificing to avoid such a catastrophe? I think it is. I ordered her death because I alone can face the truth that no one else can stomach.” He could have killed him right there and then if only for treating the Queen like a brood mare. But part of him acknowledged the brutal truth the Cardinal was spewing. He disliked the Cardinal with all his heart and yet he was stung how cruelly brilliant man he was. He thought then as he knew for certain now that the world of politics was more bloody than soldiery.

And yet at that moment they outwitted that genius politician as in came the Queen in all her resplendence. He bowed at her entrance but as usual he kept his eyes on her.  Her eyes were cold and focused on the Cardinal but to his eyes she looked as beautiful as ever.

It was the only time he ever saw Richelieu crushed in spirit as it dawned on him that the Queen heard his confession. The Cardinal kneeled in shock.

“Look into my face, Cardinal,” she said calmly. “The face of a woman you tried to kill.”

He admired her calm and poise. She had just found out the depth of the Cardinal’s treachery and yet she was composed and focused. She was extraordinary, but then, he already knew that.

The Cardinal raised his head and looked at her. He begged for her mercy, explaining in a voice full of humility that what he did, he did solely for the interest of France.

“It is only because I believe that you are sincere in your devotion to the country,” she paused dramatically, “that I have decided to spare your life. France needs you and the King loves you. Your treachery would break his heart. If you were ever to fail in your duty again, I will not be so lenient. You have been warned, Cardinal,” she finished icily.

He swelled with pride on hearing her speech and he looked at Porthos who was not entirely happy with the outcome. He understood his friend, the Cardinal had tried for so long to destroy the musketeers but she was absolutely right. With the poor quality of mind shown by the King, Richelieu was badly needed for the good of France. Besides now the Cardinal was in her debt. She played that extremely well. She rose over the personal insult; not many people, or especially royals for that matter, would be able to accomplish that. For a thousandth time he had a proof that he loved an extraordinary woman. He was fortunate and unlucky at the same time.

 

VVV

 

“Athos, Aramis, Porthos and d’Artagnan, make yourself presentable,” ordered Tréville. “You’re coming to the palace today with me.”

“Why? What happened?” inquired Porthos and d’Artagnan.

He felt Athos’s gaze but he refused to look at him. He would see her again and that was the most important thing. He accepted his fate of loving her from the distance but he thought he deserved some pleasures in life. Since the night at the convent, he only kept the company of the musketeers and, to the surprise of many, he did not chase after women as he did previously. For some reason he did not feel the need. Porthos teased him about it often but the stings were met only with a gentle smile from him.

As they gathered in the throne room with many other courtiers, he only looked at her. She looked especially radiant today, there was a small smile on her lips but she did not look at anyone in particular. They were waiting for the Cardinal who had just been summoned.

He looked at the King who just seemed impatient, so he could not fathom the reason for this sudden gathering.

At last the Cardinal arrived. The King began his speech in quite a sombre tone, so he felt a little uneasy. Did she change her mind and told the King the truth about the Cardinal?

But then the mystery was solved, the King announced happily that the Queen was with child. He felt a bolt of lightning going through his body. A child! Was he the father or the King? His head was spinning. He tried to keep his face straight, he did not want anyone to notice anything, there was no reason for the news to be received by him more emotionally than the presumed parents. He exchanged a quick look with Athos. Apparently very similar thoughts went through his friend’s head. He had a problem with focusing. He hardly heard that the Queen insisted on freeing and pardoning Mellendorf and his daughter. Of course, she had thought of that. She knew the truth and her kind heart would not stand for such injustice. She deftly found a believable reason to pardon them, her pregnancy was a perfect excuse for mercy. He could not admire her more if he tried. But his thoughts reverted again to the expected child. If he never talked to her again, how would he ever know?

The King announced that the Queen wanted to rest in private. She stood up and slowly walked towards the door. As per his custom, he bowed but his eyes stayed on her. Just as she was passing him she looked at him intently and she gave him the tiniest of unnoticeable nods. He knew then the child was his. He felt almost dizzy but conscious enough of an angry stare from Athos.

The King and the rest of courtiers left soon after, and the musketeers were slowly filing out of the room, suddenly he felt a hand on his arm stopping him in place. When they were left alone, Athos turned to face him. “I will definitely kill you for this,” Athos said matter-of-factly.

“For what?” he asked innocently.

Athos growled and asked through his teeth, “Are you the father?”

He could not look into his friend’s eyes. He quickly nodded and fiddled with his hat but again was spared the reaction from Athos as one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting came into the room.

“Monsieur Aramis?” she looked between the two musketeers as if she did not know whom she should be addressing.

“Yes,” he replied with a forced smile.

“Her Majesty requests a private audience with you. Would you follow me, please?”

He started to follow but again he was briefly stopped by the hand on his arm. “Just say goodbye. This is too dangerous for you, for her and for the child.”

He nodded and quickly followed the disappearing lady.

As they were walking towards the Queen’s chambers, he was thinking furiously what he should tell her. And he knew that Athos was right. They were all in danger. He had to be extremely careful now. She was taking a huge risk, trying to talk to him. The palace had eyes and ears, mostly hostile ones.

When he entered the vast room she was standing in the middle of it. The lady who brought him stood some paces behind her. He sighed with relief. It was safer that way. They were not alone so the tongues should not be wagging too much.

She was gently smiling and looked more beautiful than ever.

“Monsieur Aramis,” she began. “I have asked you here to thank you for risking your life to save mine and I hope you will thank your friends on my behalf.”

“We were only doing our duty, Your Majesty,” he replied formally with a slight bow. He had to admire her. She thought up of a scheme that was believable and not too suspicious.

“Be that as it may but I just wanted to say how much I appreciate it, especially now as we are expecting a new life.” He just drank her words, he had no reasonable reply. She then turned and walked towards the window. He hesitated. Was the audience finished? But then he heard her voice again.

“I’m convinced that this baby will be born strong and healthy,” she said. He dared to move a few paces closer to her. “Like his father,” she added and his heart almost stopped. A wave of emotions run through him. If he could, he would take her in his arms and showered her with kisses. It was easy to say for Athos that he should try to forget what happened. It was impossible for him.

She turned her head and looked at him, then she assumed her former position in the middle of the room. She put her hands protectively over her stomach. There was only a distance of few steps between them and yet to him it felt like an enormous, deep ravine. If he made a step forwards he would fall.

“It will be a boy,” she said with a smile, looking deeply into his eyes. “I’m certain of it.” He suspected it earlier but now he was convinced that it was her way of telling him that he is the father of her child. And she seemed ecstatically happy.

Her back was to the lady-in-waiting so she did not have to control her face, but he had to. Instead he tried to tell everything with his eyes. He hoped he was successful. “I pray that he’ll have his mother’s great wisdom and judgement.”

“And his father’s courage,” she replied, looking at him very keenly.

He knew he should not but without thinking he took three more steps towards her. “I will watch over your son,” he said and he kept walking until he was within the arm’s reach of her. He could hardly control his hands, he ached to touch her, so instead he played nervously with his hat. “I will guard him with all my strength and heart.” This was his declaration of love for her and her son as far as he was concerned because he could not say more in those circumstances. Her eyes glistened. “I will lay down my life for him, if necessary. He will have no more devoted servant.” He did not know if she loved him back, but he was convinced that she looked at him longingly and that was enough. He had enough of love inside him for both of them, and for their son.

“It is only what I would expect…” she paused for a smallest of seconds, “…from a King’s Musketeer.”

There was nothing more he could say. She looked very emotional and he hoped that it was meant for him to see.

“God go with you,” she said giving him her hand which he took immediately, “Aramis.” She closed her eyes saying his name and he was suddenly transferred to that sparsely decorated room at the convent. She said it the same way as she kept repeating it then. He kissed her hand tenderly not taking his eyes off her. It was a prolonged kiss, definitely not in accordance with the etiquette but he was hoping to convey his message that he longed to kiss her precious lips. He felt almost certain that she understood him, as she caught her breath and looked at him just the way she did that night.

The sound of the Cardinal’s voice was never more jarring in his ears than at this moment. Despite his polite words, he understood that the Cardinal must have observed that kiss and his suspicious mind started working. Richelieu was talking about the miracle of her pregnancy and he knew that even if the Cardinal had no proof, they should be very careful around him. She left the room with her lady, and two men had a short staring contest.

Again he had to agree with Athos, it was too dangerous.

 

VVV

 

Even if he had not seen her for many months now, he was thinking about her every day. He was restless, snappy and often lost in thought. Both Porthos and d’Artagnan asked him often why he was behaving strangely and each time, he checked his behaviour and tried very hard to be his former self.

He was cleaning his pistols in the courtyard when he was joined by Athos. “Aramis, you have to stop this.”

“Stop what?” he asked.

“Brooding,” Athos replied in a tired voice.

He had to stop himself from laughing out loud. A man famous amongst the musketeers for his constant brooding now reprimanded him.

“Well,” he smiled at his friend, “I can’t stop doing something that I haven’t even begun.”

Athos sighed deeply and asked in a resigned voice, “Do you want to see her?”

The smile disappeared from his face. He was touched that Athos was worried about him but deep down he knew that his friend was right, it was too dangerous. He shook his head. “No, my friend. I’ve accepted that I should not be seeing her.” He paused. “Out of sight, out of mind, as they say,” he tried his best to sound as light-hearted as he could.

Athos sighed loudly again. “The King is on the hunt in Versailles, the Cardinal is apparently sick in bed. On King’s orders the Queen is to be guarded day and night by at least two musketeers. I can put you on palace assignment for a while. Obviously with me as a company.”

He was silent for a while. “You don’t have to do this, Athos.”

“I know,” Athos sighed, got up and went back to the main hall, leaving him lost in thought with a silly smile on his face.

 

VVV

 

He was excited like a child. He was to see her soon. According to the musketeers he and Athos just relieved, she was to take her daily walk in the gardens. They were waiting for her at the entrance to the Queen’s apartments.

The door was finally opened by the palace guards and she emerged in company of a lady-in-waiting. When she saw Athos and him, her face showed a surprise for a short moment and she slightly hesitated but she continued down the corridor.

Her pregnancy was really showing and even if he expected that, he was amazed to see the change in her figure. To him she looked beautiful and his love for her swelled in his heart even more.

He did not have to talk to her, just to be in her presence was enough to make him happy. She looked well, so he hoped she was healthy and thus her child was healthy. He could feel that Athos was observing him, he looked at his friend and gave him the happiest of smiles. Athos shook his head and sighed deeply.

They walked slowly but they managed to venture far enough from the palace that it seemed that the gardens were only for the four of them. Suddenly she swayed slightly, stopped and put her hand on the arm of her companion. He was immediately worried that she did not feel well. They should not walk that far, no wonder she was tired.

“Marie,” she said in a weak voice to her companion. “I think I had too much of the sun. Please, bring me a parasol, while I’ll wait here.”

The lady-in-waiting looked at Athos and him hesitatingly. “Our orders are not to leave the Queen’s side,” Athos responded to an unspoken question from the lady.

“Go, Marie,” the Queen said gently. “I will wait for you here. Don’t worry, I shall be quite safe with my musketeers,” she added with a smile. Lady Marie had no choice and slowly walked back to the palace. She did not look particularly happy.

The Queen turned and moved into a small grotto that was in the shade. She slowly sat on the bench. Athos and he took their positions outside, standing with their backs to her.

After a short while, the Queen gave a small cry. They both turned and he took a step towards her but was stopped by a strong grip of his elbow.

“Are you all right, Your Majesty?” Athos asked in a deep voice.

“Yes, thank you, Monsieur Athos” she replied with a smile.

Athos actually made him turn away from her. He thought that his friend might have regreted his generous gesture.

But the Queen was not finished. “Monsieur Aramis,” she called.

He exchanged a look with Athos. His friend was positively glaring at him but he only shrugged his shoulders and walked resolutely towards her.

“Majesty,” he bowed, taking off his hat. They were within Athos’s earshot. He had to be very careful.

“Come closer, please,” she said smiling at him.

He gulped. “Your Majesty?”

She repeated her plea. He looked nervously at Athos, but his friend was standing with his back to them. After a short hesitation he took a few steps towards her. His heart was beating very loudly. He was sure everyone could hear it over the gentle babble of the small fountain in the grotto.

“Give me your hand, Aramis,” she said softly.

“Ana…” he whispered beseechingly. He tried to warn her but she just smiled and reached for his hand. Before he could say anything, she placed it on her stomach and covered it with her hand.

He was about to say something when he felt it. Gentle at first, then stronger movement. The child was kicking. He gave a muffled laugh and kneeled. In the corner of his eye he saw Athos turning his head towards them but he did not care at that moment. He was the happiest man alive.

“Did you feel it?” she asked, her voice showing emotion.

He nodded energetically, he choked and the tears welled up in his eyes. He did not care if he was to face the wrath of Athos later, he could feel his child moving, he was close to the woman he loved. Nothing else mattered.

“Sit next to me, Aramis,” she whispered. He looked at her lovingly and he saw that her eyes glistened too. He knew perfectly well that he should not acquiesce to her request but it was beyond his control. He sat next to her, not taking his hand off her belly. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Without thinking, he put his other hand around her waist and then kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Ana,” he whispered into her skin.

As his reason came back, he pulled slightly away and looked into her eyes. “Just tell me, are you well? Is everything going all right?”

She smiled and a happy tear started to flow on her cheek. “Don’t worry, Aramis,” she said softly. “We are both well and are doing fine. He will be born in September.”

He took her both hands into his and kissed them tenderly. “I pray for the health of both of you every day.” She squeezed his hands in reply.

“Aramis,” he heard a warning voice of Athos. “Mademoiselle Marie is coming back,” they both looked in Athos’s direction.

“Ana, I don’t know when we will have another opportunity to speak freely, so-“ he began.

“I know,” she interrupted. “But I had to… I wanted you to have this experience… I…” her voice faltered. He raised his hand and gently brushed away the tear from her cheek.

“I know,” he whispered and stroke her hand. “And you can’t comprehend how grateful I am for this gesture. And for the quickness of your mind,” they both smiled. “But we both know that it is dangerous. No one can suspect. I don’t care about my life but I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.” He kissed her hands again. “The Cardinal’s spies are everywhere. We have to be very careful. You both are my whole world, I can’t let anyone hurt either of you. We have to promise each other…”

“I understand, Aramis,” she replied quietly. “I was just desperate to see you. But I promise,” she smiled wanly.

“And I promise,” he kissed her hands again and he got up. His heart was breaking at her sad face but then she smiled, so he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Their kiss was stopped suddenly as Athos loudly cleared his throat. He quickly joined his friend and put his hat back on. The Queen’s lady-in-waiting was approaching quickly but to his relief she could not have seen him coming from the grotto.

 

VVV

 

“You will be a death of me,” Athos said suddenly as they were slowly riding back to the garrison. “Literally. Because now I have also committed treason. I don’t have to go to the confession to seek any penance from a priest. You are the punishment for all my sins.”

“Your soul should be light then,” he replied with a smile.

“As a feather,” grunted Athos as a reply.

“You may be angry with me as much as you like but you made me very happy today, thank you, my friend,” he became serious. “I will never forget it.”

“Don’t fall in love with me now,” said Athos grumpily.

“Too late,” he laughed.

“But I appreciate that you were talking some sense back there,” said Athos after a while. “You’re not as stupid as I thought.”

He smiled to himself. “Don’t celebrate too soon. Perhaps I am. But for now I’m happy, I felt it moving, Athos! The greatest miracle of life,” he took his cross out and kissed it.

His friend looked at him and just patted his back.


	4. Indiscretions

_Indiscretions_

 

 

He saw her from time to time but they never talked after that day in the grotto. Athos did not need to watch him like a hawk. They kept their promise. He just rejoiced in seeing her in good health and humour. And once when he was looking at her from afar, Athos came up to him, followed his gaze and commented without being prompted, “She looks in good spirits.” He looked at his friend in surprise; no sarcasm, no mockery, no rebuke for Aramis, just plain statement. He knew his friend well, it was his own veiled way of supporting an anxious friend. He smiled at Athos. “Don’t get too sentimental,” the musketeer continued in his usual tired voice. “Go to your post.”

He was smiling now to himself as he was recalling the incident, they were riding west, sent to meet a mysterious agent of the Cardinal. It seemed that even after his death, Richelieu gave his commands to the musketeers. He was not entirely happy to be sent from Paris at this juncture as the Queen was expected to go into labour any day now. Not that he expected to be with her when it happened but he preferred to be nearer, even if all he could do was to pray for an easy delivery. He was praying during their voyage but it was difficult to focus with the continuous banter from his friends.

The mysterious agent appeared to be not so mysterious after all, it was Comte de Rochefort, well known to Athos, Porthos and Aramis and equally despised by them. They revelled in humiliating him and Rochefort did not waste time to reciprocate.

He thought that everyone was relieved when they finally reached Paris. “Anything happened while we were gone?” he asked Gérard, the stable boy.

“No, Monsieur,” the boy replied. “The Cardinal is still dead.”

He had to chuckle at this and patted the back of the stable boy. But just as Gérard was walking his horse away, he turned and cried, “Oh, and the Queen had a son!”

He felt as if the lightning had struck him. “When?” he asked nervously. “Two days ago,” Gérard replied.

‘She was right,’ he told himself. ‘It is a boy.’ All he cared about now was if she was all right. He was about to ask the stable boy but then he realised that firstly, the boy would not know, and secondly, it might be considered strange to ask after her. Part of him wanted to rush to the palace but he knew that he had little or no chance of either seeing her or the Dauphin.

“I think it calls for celebration,” said Porthos. “Come, we deserve it.”

“What celebration?” asked Athos coming down the stairs from Tréville’s office.

“We have a future king,” cried D’Artagnan.  Athos stopped suddenly. He met Aramis’s eyes.

“Somehow you don’t seem happy about the Dauphin, Athos,” said Porthos and laughed heartily.

“I’m very happy,” Athos replied in a deep voice and gave Aramis a quick look again. “How is the Queen?”

He was grateful to Athos for that question, it was better coming from him.

“And how would we know?” asked d’Artagnan. “We’ve just found out about the Dauphin.”

“Anyway, it’s as good excuse for drinking as any,” cried Porthos. “The King must be happy as a lark, the heir at last after all those years.”

“Yes,” said Athos in a serious voice. “Don’t know about larks’ paternal feelings, but any father would be happy when his son is born.” Athos paused for a while and again he was grateful as he knew that Athos was really speaking to him but he was afraid that he would get another of those stares. Too many exchanged glances between them could tip off the others. Therefore he was relieved when Athos continued, “We must postpone the celebrations for later though.”

“What?” roared Porthos.

“We need to deliver Rochefort to the Louvre,” explained Athos. “Captain’s orders.”

Both Porthos and d’Artagnan groaned loudly. “Why can’t he send other musketeers?” d’Artagnan asked grumpily.

“He wanted to,” Athos replied. “But I’ve just decided that it will be us four.” Aramis knew that Athos did it for him, a true friend.

“You must secretly hate us,” grumbled Porthos.

Athos gave him a weak smile, “Quite the contrary, my friend, quite the contrary.”

 

VVV

 

He did not know what he was really feeling. He was delighted at the news but deep down he knew that seeing the Dauphin would give him pain. He would never be able to call him his son, he would never take him into his arms, he would never be there to put him to bed or tell the stories. He never thought that it was what he wanted from life, and yet now he was never more sure of it. He wanted to be a part of his life and that was something he would never have.

“Don’t sulk, Aramis,” Porthos interrupted his thoughts. “We will celebrate tonight. And maybe later we could have some fun like we used to do?” Porthos gave him a leery wink.

He smiled at Porthos yet he was torn inside, he did not want to disappoint his friend but he was absolutely not keen on chasing women. “I’m a bit tired, old friend, but we’ll definitely have some wine and then we’ll see how it goes from there, all right?”

Porthos gave him a searching look. “What’s wrong with you these days?”

“Nothing,” he mustered a laugh. “Perhaps I’m getting too old for it.”

“You? Nah, never!” Porthos patted his back so hard that he winced.

“Silence, you two!” hissed Tréville and Aramis sighed internally with relief to escape the conversation. He felt extremely guilty for not being sincere with his best friend, but he knew he had no choice.

They entered the throne room and his eyes nervously looked for her. A warm wave went through his body when he finally saw her. She looked very pale but to him as beautiful as ever. Only now he realised that she should not be here probably, she only had given a birth two days ago, she would be very weak. But he internally thanked the god that she decided to join the King. And it was the sign that she was healthy enough to face the world. She wore heavy black as a sign of respect for the Cardinal’s death and the colour drained her, even more emphasising her natural paleness.

She smiled at Rochefort and for the first time ever he questioned her judgement. She explained to the King how the Comte was a friend to her when he arrived in Spain and taught her everything she knew about her future home, France.  Well, he should not judge her so harshly then, she was a young girl of fourteen at the time and she did not know better. He only hoped that she would see soon now what a snake Rochefort really was.

But for now he just enjoyed looking at her. He wanted to get as much of her as he could. He would save it for later when he would be thinking of her when alone in his bed. He was so lost in thought that he reacted too slowly when Rochefort attacked the Spanish ambassador. That went too well with the King. It was not a good sign, not only the Queen but now the King now held Rochefort in high esteem. The audience was finished when the King took Rochefort for a private audience and everyone started to leave the room.

Only then their eyes finally met. Just for a moment but he was overjoyed. And he could not help himself, even as he started to walk out of the room, he turned to have just one more look at her and he was rewarded by catching her glancing at him too. He could not ask for more. There was a small proof that she must have cared for him at least a little. The smile of pure joy spilled all over his face.

The god must have smiled on him that day too; as they were going down the stairs to leave the palace he caught a glimpse of entourage of women, guarded by the musketeers. One of the women had a child in her arms. It could be no one else, it had to be the Dauphin. Without thinking, he walked briskly towards the child. The woman rebuked him instantly. He apologised and tried his charm on her. It worked. The governess smiled at him demurely and allowed him to have a proper look at the Dauphin.

He was the most beautiful child in the whole wide world. At least in his eyes. He was sure every parent thought that way but then he was convinced that in his case he was absolutely right.

The baby reached out with his hand. “He’s strong,” he said with barely hidden pride in his voice. “And handsome.”

“Of course,” replied the governess with a smile. “He’s of royal blood,” she added in a mock conspiratorial tone. His charm had worked all too well it seemed.  She then moved on with the others but not without first turning her head back to him and smiling enticingly. He smiled and gave her a little wave. Ah, Marguerite. Remembering her now brings fresh painful memories. He used her badly. He behaved abominably. And although he could find many excuses in his head they would not extinguish the shame he still feels. Seeing her keenness towards him, he concocted a plan to get closer to the Dauphin. If he knew then, what he knows now, he would never stoop so low. But he did. There is no way around it.

His interaction with the Dauphin did not escape Athos’s notice. He came over and looked at him reproachfully.

“What?” he feigned his innocence.

“What!” Athos repeated sarcastically.

Athos seemed to be everywhere and see everything. “Athos, sometimes I feel that I’m doomed always to want the things I cannot have,” he sighed resignedly.

Athos put his hand on his back, led him slowly to the door and explained with patience as if he were talking to a naughty little boy. “The Dauphin is not your son, Aramis. He can never be your son.”

He knew Athos was right but this knowledge gave him nothing but heartache.

“Unless you confess to the act of treason,” Athos continued as they were walking out of the palace. “And take the Queen down with you.”

“I know all that, Athos,” he said with impatience. “But this is stronger than reason.”

“Aramis, it’s-“

“It’s dangerous, I know,” he sighed deeply. They walked for a while in silence. “I know I cannot claim him but he is a part of me. Don’t make me deny that part of me. No one knows but I do. And the Queen obviously. And you. Let me grieve over it in my own way.” He paused, waiting for a reply and since that never came, he continued. “If you ever have a child-“

“Highly unlikely,” interrupted Athos.

“If you ever have a child,” he repeated, “you’ll understand.”

They walked on in silence.

 

VVV

 

Rochefort went with them on a mission to Spain. They survived by the skin of their teeth. If he needed more reasons to hate Rochefort, this mission gave him plenty. He thought for a while that perhaps he should somehow convey the message to the Queen that the Comte should not be trusted. But then he changed his mind. For two reasons, one that he was not supposed to contact her, and the second that he was convinced that in her wisdom she would be able to see through the duplicitous count. And he was glad that she would have a real trusted friend in Constance. He only learned of this new development on their travels to Spain. Apparently they talked about it a lot amongst themselves but he must have missed that. Thus it gave him quite a shock, when d’Artagnan mentioned it, loudly musing if Constance would be happy at the court. And it gave him another shock when he learned that the Queen had chosen Constance for her companion due to d’Artagnan’s recommendation. “You talked to the Queen?” he asked flabbergasted.

D’Artagnan was taken aback by his intensity but he confirmed it. “How? When?” the questions spurted out of his mouth before he thought.

“Why are you so surprised?” asked d’Artagnan. “The Queen knows that she can trust her musketeers. And we know that she is astute. She knows when she hears a good advice from a wise man,” he finished with a satisfied smile.

“In that case, I don’t understand why she listened to you,” commented Athos. “But then even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

They started a happy banter but he did not listen. He was disconcerted. Athos had forbidden him any contact with the Queen and yet it seems she talked with others without such restrictions. Would it not be more suspicious if he were the only musketeer she never talked to?

Nevertheless he was glad that Constance was with her, he knew that she was a loyal friend and someone the Queen could rely on. She was so alone at the court and he would hate if she found herself compelled to rely on Rochefort. And there was the other thing, he could approach Constance for any news regarding the Queen without devising any overly complicated schemes. Yes, that made him happy.

 

VVV

 

They were so tired when they reached Paris, that the only thing he was dreaming about was his bed. Therefore when a priest arrived at the garrison looking for the musketeer Aramis he was less than happy. Yet his curiosity was awakened when the priest announced that he had a message for him from Cardinal Richelieu. He truly gave orders from beyond the grave. He followed the priest and Athos joined him. The priest led them to a crypt in the Cardinal’s mansion.

“Well, what is this message?” he asked impatiently.

“You’re looking at it, Monsieur,” said the priest pointing at the wall.

His heart stopped when he saw the tombstone with the name of Adéle. His mind went blank. Athos expressed his surprise that Adéle was dead. The last time he heard of her she went to the Cardinal’s country estate. He thought that she chose the Cardinal.

The priest explained, “The Cardinal thought that you would understand the necessity of her death. He killed her because he knew that she loved you.”

His blood boiled and he rushed to the priest. He did not know what he would do to him if Athos had not have interrupted and ordered the priest to go.

“The Cardinal knew all of your secrets,” said the priest with openly malicious grin as a parting shot. “He’ll expose your sins even from beyond the grave.”

His head was spinning, his breath was shortened. Adéle, sweet Adéle. She died because of him. ‘All his secrets.’ He started to panic now.

“What if the Cardinal knew about the Dauphin?” he asked Athos. “I couldn’t protect Adéle. What if I can’t protect my son?”

“You cannot blame yourself for this,” said Athos in a quiet voice.

“Who else can I blame?” he asked accusingly. “First Isabelle, now Adéle. Every woman I truly love dies.” The bitter truth of it hit him as he said it. He felt cursed, but that would be nothing if it did not bring the death to others.

“All the more reason to stay away from the Queen… and the Dauphin,” Athos’s calm voice cut him to the quick. He ran his fingers through his hair. Again and again Athos was right. And he gave him a good advice. He probably should have listened. He had an urge to scream at the world in frustration. At that moment he felt that he would never be happy again.

 

VVV

 

He made a decision. He had to save the Queen from the fate of every woman he ever loved. Especially as he knew that his love for her was stronger than he ever felt before. He tried to avoid the palace duty as much as he could. And when he was there, he only looked at her when she did not notice. But he did start to pursue the other plan that came up to his head previously. Marguerite was more than inviting his advances and he did not discourage it. She was his key to see the Dauphin. In all honesty, he did not even tried too hard and she soon invited him to her rooms that she shared with the Dauphin. She was very eager and he tried his best to feign his interest but then he heard the child crying. He finally convinced her that she should go to the Dauphin. She reluctantly complied but the child was not easily settled. He took a deep breath and offered his service of calming the Dauphin to which she finally agreed to.

As soon as he took the Dauphin in his arms, he fell instantly in love with the child.

He sang him a short bit of a lullaby, took out his cross and dangled it in front of the Dauphin’s face. The child got instantly calm and watched the pendant with fascination. And his heart ached when Marguerite took him from his arms to put him back to his cot. She playfully asked if he came to see her or the Dauphin. He hated himself at that moment because for him the answer was obvious but if he were to be honest and sincere with Marguerite, it would have broken her heart. He only saw her because through her he had a chance to look at the Dauphin. And even in their intimate moments he was thinking about the Queen and the Dauphin. It was cruel and heartless. He led Marguerite on purposefully. He carries his guilt to this day.

And she was his excuse when the Dauphin got sick. He was frantic when he learned of the child’s illness. He felt useless. There was nothing he could do. He did not tell anyone but he sneaked to the Dauphin’s nursery. He was in luck, the door was ajar and he got the glimpse of Anne holding their son in her arms, trying to soothe the child. That picture of a mother and a child that he saw then is still engraved in his memory. He caught her eyes for a moment and his heart was breaking. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. He saw that she was frightened for her son and he was angry at himself that he could be of no help whatsoever. Their small moment was interrupted by Marguerite who saw him and thinking that he came to see her told him to go away.

Even though the illness of the Dauphin was serious, thanks to the quick thinking on Constance’s part, the Dauphin lived through this. When he found out, he went to the chapel to pray and thank the god for saving him. He also decided then that he had to break with Marguerite as gently as he could. He noticed that she was getting too attached and he felt horribly guilty about it. He really should have known better.

 

VVV

 

He was not too happy about the assignment. Spying on the religious, if slightly deranged, woman was not something that the honour of a musketeer should be exposed to. He spent only one day with this fanatic group but, thanks to his charm, he managed to get Emily, their leader, to trust him. Her mother was another matter, but he decided not to concern himself with it. He found Emily’s visions of blood and gore baffling. Could they really come from the god he believed in?

He had a shock of his life when the men guarding the camp, who were decidedly more aggressive than the rest, brought in the Queen and Constance into the tent. They were both dressed in plain dresses that decidedly came from Constance’s previous life. Anne’s hair was down and she looked even more beautiful than ever. But he knew that this was the last place that she should have been. The mob gathered by Emily was extremely hostile to the Spanish and she was the ‘Spanish queen’ after all. He understood that she came here out of the kindness of her heart but it was too dangerous.

He listened as she tried to reason with Emily, he closed his eyes in despair. There is no reasoning with the fanatics. She put herself in danger. One of the guards even suggested to cut off her head. He rushed forward.

“Lay one finger on her…” he warned the guard in a menacing tone. It might have been a mistake as he showed his true feelings and Emily jumped on it immediately. Then Emily’s bloodthirsty mother suggested hanging. This was escalating too quickly. He took no weapons with him, he was thinking furiously what he could do if she were attacked. To his temporary relief, Emily decided to wait for ‘god’ to come to her in a vision and tell her what to do with the Queen.

The Queen and Constance were to spend the night in Emily’s tent. He tried to make them as comfortable as possible, he arranged for some bedding to be brought into the tent. Anne looked frightened. ‘As she should be,’ he told himself. Her life was potentially in grave danger. He gave them some soup and he went outside to guard them. He was trying to think of some plan to escape if the things got worse and Emily had a vision where the life of the Queen should be sacrificed.

In the middle of the night he heard the bloodcurdling screams. At first he thought it was another of Emily’s visions but then he determined that it was Constance’s voice. He sprang to his feet and run into the tent. Constance was sitting up in her temporary bed, soaked in sweat, with a sheer terror on her face. Anne was trying to soothe her.  It turned out Constance had a terrifying dream with visions of blood and death. Emily was convinced that god sent her a divine vision. He was not so sure. He gave Constance the soup from the bowl that Emily was supposed to have. And Constance’s reaction looked suspiciously similar to Emily’s ‘visions’. The Queen took Constance in her arms and tried to calm her. He was thinking furiously. Were the visions induced by someone or something? “Are you all right, Your Majesty?” he asked quietly. She nodded and smiled wanly at him. Whatever it was, it did not touch the Queen only Constance. There was not much he could do now, so he left the tent after Constance slowly calmed down in Anne’s arms.

He was more than relieved when in the morning Emily announced that she decided that she would spare the Queen’s life and instead demanded an audience with the King. He was to escort the Queen and her companion back to the palace. Everyone was slowly leaving the tent. The Queen was the last to leave apart from him. Acting rather on his instincts than his reason, he stepped into her way and touched her arm to stop her. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said in a quiet voice. It was a bit presumptuous and too familiar but he excused himself that they were the only two people left in the tent. She looked at his hand that was still on her arm and stood very close to him.  His heart was beating faster.

“I will always serve my country,” she replied with a slight smile dancing on her lips. He nodded. “But perhaps this time I was unwise.”

She was so close to him. ‘Too close’ he realised and he took his hand off her arm. Fighting every impulse in his body to take her in his arms, he put his hands on his hips.

“Foolish is the better word,” he said, smiling. He could not take his eyes off her lips.

“You are talking to your queen, Aramis,” she said playfully and put her hand on his chest.

“I know,” he whispered with a pained sigh. Her closeness and her gentle smile were driving him insane with desire but he knew that they could not cross the line. ‘It’s too dangerous,’ Athos voice rang in his head. He closed his eyes, he was in an actual physical pain to be that close to her and not being able to touch her. He forced himself to look away to strengthen his willpower. “We promised each other,” he said in a resigned voice. And then he made a mistake. He looked into her eyes.

“The Queen is allowed to break her promises,” she whispered. Their faces almost touched and he could control himself no longer. They kissed tenderly and he felt like he was coming home after a long and painful journey. He put his arms around her and pulled her gently to him. The wave of pleasure went through his body and the feeling of absolute joy and love overwhelmed him. He put all his longing for her into that kiss. She leaned into him and he deepened the kiss. If he were to die at that moment, he would die deliriously happy. Suddenly they heard a movement at the opening of the tent. Reluctantly they broke their kiss and turned their gazes in that direction. They saw Constance with a look of total astonishment on her face. Anne went to her immediately. He then heard her saying to Constance that she now knew all her secrets and that she held her life in her hands.

He was not afraid that Constance would betray them, she was a decent, loyal sort and he saw that she had a sincere attachment to the Queen. All he felt at that moment was the quilt of acting recklessly and the sense of loss, loss of Anne’s lips and the warmth of her body against him. But he checked himself quickly. There was no time to lose. To confirm his suspicions, he took a sample of last night’s soup from Constance’s bowl. He did not know yet if he would be able to prove anything but at least he had to try.

They left the camp and waked slowly through the wood. “Where are your horses?” he asked.

“There are no horses,” replied Constance annoyed. “We walked.”

“What?” he asked. He could not believe his ears. “This is madness. You cannot just walk the streets of Paris with the Queen with no protection.”

“Apparently we can as we did just that yesterday,” said Constance, giving him a stern look. Was it his imagination or was she annoyed with him?

“But it’s a long way to the palace,” he postulated.

Constance was about to say something but was stopped by a gentle touch on her arm by the Queen. “It is not that far,” said Anne calmly. “And the clothes we are wearing are quite comfortable. Much more comfortable than the ones I’m usually wearing.”

“Well, I don’t know, Your Majesty,” said Constance “Clothes are clothes. And I came to like my palace dresses. They are fine and dandy.”

He exchanged an amused look with Anne. In fact they keep glancing at each other and smiling all the way, not taking notice if Constance saw it or not.

At one point, Constance walked closer to him and whispered angrily, “I can’t believe you did not tell me.” He looked at her with surprise but was given no time for a response. “Shush!” she hushed him and retook her place by the Queen.

 

VVV

 

It seemed that everyone was excited about the eclipse of the sun that was to be expected that day. They were placed at the King’s guard and they were patiently waiting for the King’s party to get ready to ride to visit Marmian, the astronomer. The King’s romance with Milady de Winter was to all accounts blossoming. The King was unashamed to entertain his mistress in front of the Queen and other courtiers. Athos left as he was unable to watch the Milady strutting like a peacock. As for him, it sickened him to see the Queen being humiliated like this. He admired her for enduring it with poise and calmness. He knew that his duty was to guard the King but he felt nothing but hatred for him at that moment.

When they arrived at the old fortress, they were greeted with polite smiles and small refreshments. At one point the Queen came near him and whispered without looking at him, “I feel safer seeing you guarding us.”

Trying not to move his lips he whispered back, “Always.”

When they entered the main hall, the royal couple sat on the prepared chairs, while the musketeers took their places strategically to have a good look at the proceedings, the Red Guards were left to watch outside. He and Porthos took their posts at the gallery overlooking the hall.

Marmian prepared the spectacle of watching the eclipse with gusto. Then suddenly the tableau changed. The guests were attacked by Marmian’s accomplices and were ordered not to move. The musketeers tried to fight at first but on hearing Marmian threatening to kill the King, they had to surrender. His heart went cold when he saw the Queen paralysed with fear as she was being threatened by a brute with a big knife pointed at her stomach.

“Show some compassion, and at least let the women and the Dauphin go!” he cried to Marmian. The astronomer went upstairs and stood in front of him. “What did you say?” Marmian asked in a steely voice.

He repeated his suggestion and frankly he was taken by surprise when Marmian suddenly turned to him and pushed him towards the window. The last thing he remembered was the sound of broken glass and the sense of flying in the air.

When he came to, he was disoriented. All he knew was that he was in pain and there was a clear blue sky above him. And there was a crow walking over him. Slowly his memory of what happened was coming back. If he was to be honest, he was surprised that he was alive. He reached for the cross and pressed it to his lips. He started to look around to ascertain his circumstances. He seemed to be saved by the canvas roof hanging over the entrance. He shook his head to wake up his senses and decided to climb the building to get inside. The climb was slow and painful but he finally managed to climb to the second floor. He looked through the window and he saw the Queen and Marguerite with the Dauphin in her arms being led somewhere by grim-looking individuals. He had to get inside. He tried a couple of windows and finally found the one that was open. He needed to be as quiet as possible.

Suddenly he heard the incoming steps. He hid and then he heard the screams of pain and horror. He saw one of Marmian’s brutes leaving one of the rooms and going down the stairs. He tiptoed to the room from which the brute came from, he shuddered when he saw the dead bodies of the courtiers, lying in the pools of blood. What if the Queen and the Dauphin were to be next? He went cold with fear. He needed to do something fast.

He stepped into the corridor and went into the direction of the room in which the Queen was taken. One of Marmian’s accomplices sat there guarding the door. He had to engage him somehow and take the keys to the room from him. He decided to surprise him. He stood in the doorway and said nonchalantly, “So what did you think about the eclipse? Quite a spectacle.” Then he stepped back into the corridor. He was counting on the brute following him. He was right. Unfortunately the fight took him a while. He could not shoot him as the others would hear it and he could not risk it. He finally managed to get the key and walked briskly to the room where the Queen was kept.

When he opened the door, his heart leaped with joy of seeing her safe and sound. She was surprised at first but then he saw a pure joy radiating from her face. He walked towards her and kneeled in front of her in sheer relief seeing her alive. She gave him her hands and he took them with gratitude.

“We thought you were dead,” her eyes were full of tears.

“Are you all unharmed?” he asked glancing at the Dauphin.

“We are all quite well,” she replied. He asked about the King and she knew that he was alive when they left him. They were still holding hands, definitely in contradiction to any etiquette but he was unable to let go of her hands. And she seemed to be of the same mind to his delight. He kissed her hands with all the passion he felt for her. “If I hadn’t found you in time…” The mere thought of it gave him pain.

She looked at him with tenderness and smiled. “Once again you are my saviour,” her voice was emotional. She beamed at him with happiness. She reached for his pendant and took it into her hand. “You still wear it,” she said softly.

“Always,” he whispered, looking straight into her eyes and got up. Then he went to the door to check if no one was coming. When he turned back to the room, Marguerite run to him and put her arms around him telling him of her joy at seeing him alive. He did not want to be rude but his eyes were on Anne, who took the Dauphin in her arms and was clearly waiting to show the child to him. He gently but firmly disengaged himself from Marguerite and stepped closer.

“My son is well, Aramis,” she said smiling gently. “And better for your protection.”

He smiled at the Dauphin, who was babbling happily. Two people that he loved with all his heart were safe and within the reach of his arms. He forgot about everything else when he gently stroked the Dauphin’s cheek. There were just three of them in the whole wide world.

“One day he’ll come to know the loyalty and bravery of his musketeers as I do.“ Her voice brought him back to reality. He needed to get them out of there. He put one hand around her waist protectively and another one on his son, thinking quickly what would be the best way to go from now on. He then took the Dauphin from Anne and put him on his arm while holding the pistol in the other hand. He did not know if there were more of Marmian’s thugs out there, he had to be ready. He told Anne to stay close behind him.

They moved slowly. He listened for any movement. They were on the stairs, not far from the exit from the building, when he saw one of the assassins lurking at the bottom of the stairs, who noticed them. He gave the Dauphin to Anne and readied himself to shoot the brute. But no one came and he just heard a groan and the sound of a body falling down. He moved to see what happened and to his enormous relief he saw Athos who must have had dispatched the thug with a knife.

“I heard you broke the window,” said Athos.

“Better that than my neck,” he replied and motioned to Anne and Marguerite to move forward.

He was glad that not only Athos was here but also Tréville, which meant that the help came. He was less happy to see Rochefort but they needed numbers if they were to face Marmian and his companions. Tréville expressed his joy at seeing the Queen alive and Rochefort said that the god was watching over her.

“God and the musketeers,” she replied, and looked at him intently. He had to force himself to break that eye contact with her. There were too many eyes watching them.

Then he saw Porthos. They greeted themselves without the words but he saw a joy in his friend’s face. “Next time try using the door, yeah?” Porthos quipped.

“Get the Queen to safety,” said Athos. “And … come straight back,” his friend gave him a knowing look. If they had time, he would be amused by Athos’s suspicion.

He led the Queen and Marguerite out of the fortress and walked with them towards the carriages that were awaiting them. When they were close to the carriages left on a small hill, Marguerite turned to the Queen, “Let me carry the Dauphin, Your Majesty” she said. “The climb is steep.” Anne passed the child to Marguerite and turned to him. “You should join your friends, Aramis,” she said softly. “I’m certain they will need you.” He looked anxiously towards the carriages and saw some of the guards were by now coming down the hill to them. She followed his gaze. “You see? We will be all right now.” He bowed not taking his eyes off her. She gave him her hand. He kissed it hungrily. “Be safe, Aramis,” she said aloud and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Then she added in a whisper, “For us.” He kissed her hand again, turned and walked briskly towards the fortress.

The fight with Marmian’s thugs was mercifully quick. They saved the King but if he were to be honest he was more happy that d’Artagnan and Constance were safe and sound.

Only now he felt the fatigue overwhelming him, he walked slowly uphill to the carriages and their horses. He was revived though by the sight of her safely sitting in the carriage with the King and the Dauphin, it brought him back to life. She did not take her eyes off him. If anyone cared to see, it was obvious that she was not indifferent to him and his heart skipped a beat. He did not dare to hope for his feelings to be reciprocated but he was sure that she had to have some penchant for him. He recalled the kiss in the tent at the Emily’s camp. It was passionate and intense. A shiver run down his spine at the remembrance of it.

He walked towards the royal carriage and bowed deeper than usual. The King was not paying any attention to him and even if he felt closely watched by Athos and Constance, he dared a small smile and she smiled back.

And when they all stood there waiting for others to join the party, he saw Constance running down the hill to d’Artagnan’s arms. All party gathered on the hill watched with pleasure the kissing couple, d’Artagnan and Constance, who were oblivious of everything around them and just were happy sharing their love. While everyone’s eyes were still at the couple down the hill, he sneaked a glance towards Anne. She was smiling and looking at Constance and d’Artagnan. Despite the voice inside his head, that strangely sounded like Athos’s, telling him not to be a damned fool, he entertained a thought that were they ordinary people, he and Anne could have enjoyed their freedom, too.

“Isn’t that young woman married?” asked the King.

“Yes, Sire,” Anne replied. “I believe she is.” And then she looked at him still smiling. His heart skipped a beat again because he irrationally thought that she might have been thinking the same as he did now, but he had to look away for fear of anyone noticing and coming to the conclusion that the glances he and Anne shared were too conspicuous.

His heart was beating very fast.

 

VVV

 

He was nervous. When he got the note from Constance, he did not know what to think of it. Had anything happened? Was she in danger? If so, why send for him and not d’Artagnan? As per instructions, he did not wear the uniform, he put on a dark, hooded cloak over his shirt. On second thought though, he took his weapons with him. He made sure that no one knew where he was going and that no one saw him. He was hiding behind the pillar, in a shaded corridor near the old chapel.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Constance hissed somewhere behind him. “When I said no uniform, I meant no pistols or swords.”

“And good evening to you, Madame,” he said, smiling at the annoyed face of Constance.

She was not easily put off. “I don’t want you clanking all the way like some demented soul. I need you to be quiet as a mouse.”

“May I inquire for the reasons for this clandestine meeting?” he continued in an amused voice.

“I’m taking you to see the Queen and I don’t want the whole world to know about it,” she was still annoyed.

“What?” he asked not very eloquently, stupefied by this abrupt information.

“Which part of the sentence you did not understand?” she put her hands on her hips.

“I…” his mouth flew open.

“The Queen wants to see you and she doesn’t want anyone to know about it. So shut your mouth, it’s not the communion, I’m not a priest and it’s not a mass. Here, take this!” she gave him a lamp. “Pay attention to where we are going. It’s a labyrinth up there.” She turned and walked briskly away. Still in daze, he followed.  They went for a long time through a dark corridors until they reached an iron door. Constance took out the keys and they entered a dark room with the very steep and winding stairs. After a strenuous climb they arrived at another door that again was opened with the key by Constance. Now he understood what she meant by a labyrinth. They entered the area with numerous very narrow corridors.

“No clanking,” she hissed. He tried his best, he put his hands on the various attachments to his belts to prevent any noise. Finally she stopped in front of a door and opened them noiselessly. “I oiled them myself,” she whispered.

To his surprise they entered a vast room, dominated by a huge four poster bed. What he saw took his breath away. Queen Anne was lying on her side, her hair was down and spread freely on the bed, she was not wearing any of her elaborate dresses but a much simpler version of it. The view was so domestic, that his heart ached. She had her back to him, so he did not notice at first. But as they moved forward he saw that beside the Queen was the Dauphin, who was cooing at the rattle held by the Queen over his head.

When the Queen saw them approaching, she sat up and smiled. He bowed deeply yet his eyes stayed on the mother and her son. He was speechless.

“Aramis, I thought it was the high time for you two to meet properly,” she said happily.

He did not dare to move, he was just staring at the Dauphin. She motioned him to come closer. He took a few steps but kept a respectful distance. Constance went to the window and sat on a chair.

“There is only us here, Aramis,” she smiled gently. ‘Sit with us.”

Just three words and his world changed into a dream. He walked towards the bed and sat on it gingerly on the other side of the Dauphin. “Louis, meet Aramis,” she said. Then added in a whisper, “Your father.”

He never thought of himself as a weeping man, yet at this moment his eyes welled up and he tried his best to stop the tears from coming. He looked at her with all the love he had for her, then he turned his gaze towards his son, their son. For the first time ever he did not have to pretend or hide his true feelings. He was amongst friends. He leaned closer towards Louis and looked into his eyes that were so like his.  Then he suddenly stood up. She looked at him in surprise.

“With your permission, Your Majesty,” and without waiting for her reply he started to take off his belts with swords and pistols. When she understood, she gave a small laugh. With getting rid of his weapons accomplished, he sat again on the bed and then lied down beside his son. He reached for the tiny hand and he kissed it. His heart nearly burst out of his chest when the tiny fingers grabbed his finger. He looked at the Queen and saw the tears of happiness welling up in her eyes. Then to his immense joy she joined them on the bed. His little unofficial family was within his grasp and he could not be happier.

He lost track of time. He did not know how long they played, cuddled and laughed with Louis, showering him with kisses. The gentle voice of Constance brought him back to reality. “It’s getting late, Your Majesty. I should take him back to Marguerite.”

The Queen sat up. “Yes, yes, of course. I forgot myself for a while.”

He never loved her more than at this moment. They shared their little dream at least for a while.

Before he got up, he kissed the head of his son. He knew that such an occasion might never happen again and his heart was breaking at the thought.

Anne and he stood meekly by the bed when Constance gathered Louis. “I’ll be right back,” she said and went out of the room.

He was afraid to say anything. He felt too emotional. But he mustered all his strength. “Your Majes…”

“Don’t call me that now, Aramis,” she interrupted nervously.

“Ana,” he began again. “I cannot thank you enough for this privilege. There are no words. You know that.” He choked and again he had to fight the tears.

“I wanted to make you happy,” she whispered and gave him a shy smile.

“You did,” he said simply and had to restrain himself from taking her into his arms.

She gave him his hand, he took it with both his hands and he kissed it tenderly, trying to convey all the love he felt. He straightened up but he kept holding her hand. After a short hesitation, she gave him her other hand. And they stood there, holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes. They did not stop even when Constance came back in.

“Honestly, you two!” exclaimed Constance, exasperated.

Anne looked sharply at Constance as if only now realising that she was in the room, blushed and took her hands from him.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Constance’s voice was meeker now. “Let me send away your maids. I’ll tell them that you have developed a headache and decided to retire for the night. And that you don’t want to be disturbed. It will give you both time to say your goodbyes.” Constance turned her gaze to him. “I hope you remembered your way out as I can’t accompany you now. Just have it in mind that if anyone sees you I will personally murder you,” she said, giving him a stern look. “I’m leaving the keys on the mantelpiece. But I want them back!” Then she curtseyed to the Queen and left the room.

He smiled to himself. He could only be grateful to d’Artagnan now for suggesting Constance as a companion to the Queen. Her good heart and quick wit were priceless. And useful. Somehow his happiness in love life seemed always to depend on the generosity of friends. And what was more important, Constance saved his son’s life, he was forever in her debt from that moment anyway.

There was an awkward silence between them.  Anne looked at her hands in her lap. He watched her face and searched furiously for appropriate words.

“There are so many things that I wanted to say to you when I was hoping for such an opportunity and yet I cannot remember them now,” he said finally.

She raised her head and smiled softly at him. She gave him her hands again and he took them instinctively. He held her hands gingerly as one would hold a frightened bird that could fly away at any moment. His thumbs tenderly stroked her skin.

They just looked at each other. He felt that he should say something. “Is… is the King treating you better these days?” he asked gently.

She smiled with warmth. “You don’t have to worry about me, Aramis,” hearing her saying his name always resulted in a wave of pleasure. “I’m not alone anymore. I have Constance who is a dear and true friend to me.” They both smiled. “And most importantly, I have Louis.” She paused. “There is also the knowledge that you are somewhere out there.” He felt the knot tightening in his stomach.

“And as for the King, I don’t see him often these days. That unfortunate escapade with Marmian scared him and he mostly spends his time in his apartments.” She paused again. “I had a visit from him only two nights ago though.” His body stiffened. “He came to me, wearing only his nightgown, rather worse for the drink he had, I’m afraid.” He had to look away. Of all the subjects he could ask about, he was regretting now that he had chosen the King.

She delicately squeezed his hands and he met her eyes again. “He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow,” she smiled wanly, clearly embarrassed to divulge such details. “And in the morning, he was ashamed of his behaviour as he somehow convinced himself that he had forced himself on me. I never had the opportunity to assure him that nothing of that kind happened.” He felt a relief, but then he rebuked himself, he had no right to be jealous. He kept forgetting this small fact.

“He practically buried himself in his chamber and he only allows for visits from Rochefort,” she finished.

“Forgive me for saying that, Your Majesty,” he began quietly. “But you should be careful with Rochefort.”

“He is a dear friend, Aramis,” she said firmly. “And he is the First Minister. Why shouldn’t I trust him?”

He opened his mouth to say something but was prevented by her. “In any case, I don’t want to talk about Rochefort now,” she smiled at him with such tenderness that he felt his knees weakening. “I’m happy that you could spend some private time with Louis. Even if my actions may be called by some people as foolish,” her voice was playful now.

“Unwise is the better word,” he replied, copying her tone.

And suddenly as if their bodies got the unspoken signal, they embraced each other tightly and their lips met with hungry intensity.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered as they paused for breath.

“I know,” his voice was thick with desire. She claimed his lips again and he responded with fervour.

“It’s too dangerous, Ana,” it was his turn to break the kiss and whisper.

“I know,” she replied. “We promised each other.”

“The Queen is allowed to break her promises,” he replied. They kissed again and again. This time there was no one to interrupt them. No one to bring them to their senses. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, tugged at their clothes until they were free of them. There was no force strong enough in this world to tear them apart.


	5. The Price You Pay

_The Price You Pay_

 

 

That slap hurt. Constance delivered it with gusto. He raised his hand to massage his painful cheek.

“I’m sure I‘ve deserved it but may I ask what was it for?” he asked smiling at his assailant.

“You were only supposed to say your goodbye,” she fumed, looking at him accusingly.

He was searching for appropriate words. He did not want to stir more ire from her. At first he did not know to what she was alluding, but then understanding her meaning he wondered how much she really knew.

“And instead you went behind my back and duplicated the keys, I suppose,” she said apparently tired of waiting for a reply from him. “Do you understand how dangerous it is?”

“I love her, Constance,” he said softly after a pause.

She sighed loudly and seemingly mellowed a little. “Yes, well…at least there is that, that you love each other but–“  

He had to interrupt her. “Did she say that?” he asked breathlessly. Constance’s cheeks went deep crimson. “I mean… yes… no… she didn’t say exactly that…” she paused flustered. “I shouldn’t have said that. That’s what I thought I saw…” her voice faltered again and she looked down to her hands in her lap.

“Constance, I beg you, tell me,” he pleaded.

“Aramis, she’s my friend and my Queen I can’t…” Constance bit her lip.

He checked himself. “You’re right, I apologise,” he said softly. She looked at him with what looked like pity in her eyes.

“I’m still angry with you for going behind my back, you know,” she whispered. “But from my own experience… I know how it feels when you love someone and you can’t be with them…” She took a deep breath. “She didn’t say how she felt but I saw it as she was explaining what had been happening with you two.” She blushed again. He listened very intently.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked finally.

He raked his brain, he was so happy those days that he did not count the days. “A month and a half, I think,” he offered.

“For a month and a half you’ve been seeing the Queen and you haven’t told me?” she cried. He shushed her and looked around nervously. She cleared her throat in embarrassment. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve never seen the Queen in such high spirits as recently.” She gave him a small smile.

He smiled shyly. But then his face got serious again. “Constance, no one can know about it,” he urged her.

“You don’t have to tell me that!” she quickly reverted to her normal self. “Who do you take me for?”

“A good friend,” he replied quietly with a smile. She was clearly appeased with that, even if she never was the one to be easily shrugged off with compliments.

“Yes, well…” she covered her embarrassment again by clearing her throat. “In any case, she asked me to tell you that she will be lighting the candle tonight. I expect you know exactly what she meant.” She gave him a stern look. He smiled and nodded. It was their sign. If Anne knew that it might be relatively safe for him to come, she had left a lit candle in the window of her bedchamber. He looked for it every night whenever his assignments did not take him out of Paris. He always thought that standing there in the shadow and waiting for the sign was the most dangerous part of their affair.

He wanted to say something more but was interrupted by someone coming into the courtyard of the garrison. “I was right. I thought I heard your voice,” said d’Artagnan happily. “What are you doing here, Constance?”

“I have a free evening,” she replied loudly. “The Queen retired early tonight,” she gave Aramis a knowing look, “so I thought I may pay you all a visit to see what you are up to.”

D’Artagnan came closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. “And I thought you came to see just me,” the musketeer teased and then kissed her.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Aramis patted his friend’s back, smiling at them. “I’m going out anyway.”

“You should wait for Porthos,” said d’Artagnan when he tore himself from Constance. “He wanted to go to the tavern, too.”

“Oh, leave him alone,” said Constance, jokingly hitting d’Artagnan’s arm. “Porthos is a bad influence when it comes to your evenings on the town.” Then she quelled any protest from d’Artagnan by kissing him tenderly. He was grateful to Constance and he quickly sneaked out of the garrison.

 

VVV

 

As he walked towards the palace, his mind was focused on the reminiscing about his happy nights that he spent with Anne. They did not plan it, truth be told. When he visited her for the first time to meet the Dauphin officially, they were both surprised by the intensity with which the meeting ended. And yet neither of them regretted it.  They spent that evening alternately talking and lovemaking. And that was the pattern they followed each time they were together. He talked about his life before and after he joined the King’s Musketeers, she about her childhood in Spain and the grim day-to-day happenings of a courtly life. From time to time she managed to have the Dauphin with them for an hour or so. But then he had to hide behind the secret panel door to wait out until the governess came and took the Dauphin away. Even then he knew how badly he treated Marguerite, he avoided her as much as he could although he saw in the corner of the eye how she looked at him whenever they passed each other at the court. But he was blinded to everything else as he felt that his real life was only when he was with Anne.

He knew he had never been so happy. He lived for those moments with her.

“I wish I could wake up with you,” she said once. “The day would be easier to face.” He just pulled her closer to him and kissed her head. He wished that too but instead he had to sneak out in the middle of the night like a thief. He supposed he was a thief of sorts. They avoided the subject of king and their treason carefully. They both felt guilty but unable at the same time to cease meeting in that clandestine mode.

He enjoyed noticing how much more self-assured Anne became. In many respects. First he noticed that she was no longer timid, she told him what she wanted him to do, she was no longer shy when it came to her body and she was more than eager to take the initiative. Then he saw that she started to be more assertive with the courtiers, members of the Cabinet or, what he found most satisfying, with Rochefort. She unfortunately still trusted him but now she demanded more information about the King’s actions from him. He was certain that in time she was to find him as untrustworthy as he really was.

Once again he opened the heavy door, then climbed those stairs, walked through those narrow corridors and ended up in front of the door that by now was sacred to him. He listened for a moment if there were some voices inside the room. Then slowly opened the door with the key. He barely stepped in when she put her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. He would happily risk his life for that kind of welcome.

“For some reason I thought today that I would never see you again,” she said breathlessly when their lips parted. He kissed her again and closed the door with his foot.

“I’m here now and that’s all that matters,” he said looking deeply into her eyes. He thought that he finally saw what Constance was talking about. He never dared to believe but he should have seen it earlier. She did love him. And deep down he knew that before but neither of them ever used the word as if they both took some unspoken vow.

“ _Alma de mi coraz_ _ón_ ,” he whispered. Her eyes welled up with tears and their lips met in a tender, deep kiss that seemed to last forever.

 

VVV

 

The message they received from Constance was a little alarming. The four of them were to come to the Queen’s apartments without delay. His mind was buzzing and he cursed at the slowness of their progress, shoving the innocent crowd away whenever it came into his way. Athos caught up with him, “Try to remain calm,” he said in his steady voice. “At least until we know what exactly happened.” He tried to calm himself, if only for his friend’s sake.

The palace was full of Red Guards and that was never a good sign. They were close to fighting them as the Red Guards were somewhat reluctant to let the musketeers in, but thanks to Athos’s cold blood the potential skirmish was avoided.

Constance was waiting for them at the head of the stairs. Her face was worried and his heart went cold at seeing this.

“What happened?” asked d’Artagnan gently. Constance just looked at him, turned away and started to walk. The musketeers exchanged glances and followed her.

“Rochefort attacked the Queen,” she began when they were walking down the corridor leading to the Queen’s bedchamber. Athos gave him a quick look. “He tried to force himself on her. She fought him off. Wounded him.”

He listened to what Constance was saying but his head and heart was full of rage. They went slowly in and he saw her surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, fussing over her. The sight of her sad, frightened face gave him an actual, physical pain. She motioned for the ladies to leave.

The musketeers came closer. She glanced into his eyes for a moment but then looked away as if ashamed.

“He dared to lay hands on you,” he tried to control his voice because he was raging inside.

“I trusted him,” she finally said in a weak voice. “I thought he was my friend.” He wanted to do only two things now, first to take her in his arms and comfort her, and then kill Rochefort.

“The King has been informed?” d’Artagnan asked softly.

He watched in fascination the sudden change in her composure, she assumed her regal poise even if she still avoided looking into anyone’s eyes. “My loyal musketeers will escort me,” she said in a strained voice. Athos immediately went to the door and opened it for the Queen. She walked out of the room followed by the musketeers. He was stopped by Constance in the doorway.

“Rochefort knows everything about you and the Queen,” she whispered. He froze. Constance followed the others and he was left alone with his thoughts. Her life was in danger. Possibly the Dauphin’s life was in danger. He trembled at the thought what ‘everything’ meant. Has anyone seen him sneaking into the palace? Even if so, he made it certain that no one saw him going into her room. What does Rochefort know? Neither Constance nor Athos would ever betray them, so who? Has the Cardinal left something in his private notes? No, that was highly unlikely. Richelieu had his fun tormenting him with Adéle’s tombstone but he was certain he would not leave anything incriminating in writing. He was too smart for that. The Dauphin was the future of France and the Cardinal would not risk it for the world.

Angry, confused and afraid for Anne and the child he finally followed his friends. He could hear from the distance Athos’s roar at the Red Guards to open the door. The Red Guards’ commander firmly stood in their way.

“How dare you defy me?” Anne cried and all four musketeers drew their swords. He was proud of that new, strong Anne.

It made the Red Guards relent and they all went into the Cabinet ministers’ chambers.  She tried to speak to the King. He and d’Artagnan tried to support her but it was to no avail. Rochefort was too clever for them. He showed the King a letter that the Queen wrote to the Spanish king upon the suggestion of Rochefort. No amount of explanation either from Anne or Constance was of any use. The King’s mind was poisoned by Rochefort.

“Your Majesty should listen to the Queen, you can’t trust that man,” said Athos pointing at Rochefort. It was all to nothing. The King’s weak mind was made up. He dismissed the Queen and ordered the musketeers to return to the garrison.

They escorted her back to her apartments. The unpleasant sight of Red Guards awaited them. The short squabble between the musketeers and the guards ensued. It was stopped when Rochefort arrived with reinforcements.

He walked towards Rochefort. “You will die for this,” he said in a menacing, low voice. If he only could. He would kill him then and there.

“I know you, musketeer,” replied Rochefort. “Who you are and what you have done.”

“If the Queen comes to any harm, you will pay for it,” intervened Athos. “With your blood.”

Rochefort kept looking straight into Aramis’s eyes. Both looked at each other with hatred. Rochefort was wearing an eyepatch and for a moment he was proud of Anne. She hurt him badly. Good.

In the end both the musketeers and the guards left the Queen’s apartments. He was uneasy to leave her there alone. His only comfort was the thought that Constance was with her.

 

VVV

 

Back on the street of Paris, they walked slowly. “We should’ve just killed‘im,” said Porthos angrily.

“I agree,” offered d’Artagnan in an equally angry voice. “It would save everybody a lot of trouble.”

“That would only put us into more trouble,” replied Athos tiredly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him.”

He was silent. As much as he agreed with his brothers, he left her there on Rochefort’s mercy. Suddenly he was conscious of Athos’s gaze. He turned to him and they both stopped. “Rochefort knows,” he said quietly.

Athos’s face did not change, he looked tired as always. “If Rochefort’s advances to the Queen were treason, what does that make yours?” his friend asked.

“Love,” he whispered passionately.

“I’m sure the King will appreciate the difference,” replied Athos.

By now Porthos and d’Artagnan noticed that they have stopped. Porthos approached them briskly, “What’s goin’ on?”

“You created this mess,” Athos continued in his tired voice. “Tell them.”

Porthos was impatient but he could not talk to them there among the crowd. He led them back to the garrison.

“Why can’t you tell us here? You two are always whispering in the shadows!” Porthos kept ranting. “Always having some secrets. What happened to ‘all for one, one for all’ stuff?”

“It’s complicated,” said Athos, thus putting an end to any further questions. They walked on in silence. He was dreading their imminent conversation, but he knew that he had to tell them now.

They went straight to his room. Athos told them to wait and went to find Tréville.

His heart sank. Now the Captain would be involved too. His courage was deserting him.

Tréville walked in and he saw that the Captain was already in a foul mood. It was getting better and better. Tréville looked at him expectantly. He did not know where to start.

“Aramis slept with the Queen,” said Athos succinctly describing the problem.

Tréville did not believe at first but the matter in hand hardly could be considered humorous.

“How? When?” asked Porthos aggressively. He quietly provided him with the information. On hearing this, Tréville accused Athos of allowing this to happen.

“If I knew he was going to do it I would have shot him then and there. But what is done is done,” calmly replied Athos. Porthos was visibly getting angry by a second, he demanded to know why he was not told.

He knew that Porthos would be hurt by the secrecy the most. He promised himself to explain it to him later. In private. For now he only said that he wanted to protect her reputation.

D’Artagnan pointed out that he could do it by not sleeping with the Queen. It was a fair point actually but he previously hoped that d’Artagnan of all of them would understand him. After all, he had an affair with Constance when she was still married.  Apparently he was wrong about it and for a moment he regretted that Constance was true to her word. If she told d’Artagnan sooner in her no-nonsense voice, he might have had at least one ally in the room.

“There’s more,” Athos took the role of a prophet of doom.

‘That would be the worst part probably’ he told himself. He took a deep breath. “The Dauphin might be my son,” he paused, unhappy with the half-truth. “Is my son,” he corrected himself.

He knew it was coming, Porthos grabbed him by the doublet and pushed him hard to the wall. He hardly defended himself. He knew he deserved it. Porthos looked into his eyes for a moment. He did not know what his friend saw but he released him, took him in his arms and patted his back. Tréville was having none of it. “You are speaking of the next KING OF FRANCE!” the Captain finished screaming at him. He never saw the Captain so angry.

D’Artagnan offered some doubt as to his certainty of the Dauphin’s paternity.

“I know he is,” he replied in whisper.

“Aramis,” said d’Artagnan expressing his disappointment and despair.

“And still more,” the prophet of doom spoke again. “Rochefort knows.” Everyone felt silent. Surprise and the hopelessness of the situation rendered them speechless.

“Then there is nothing any of us can do about it,” said Tréville finally.

After a while Athos spoke again. He thought that there might be a way out. He told them about his conversation with Milady de Winter and her offer of information that might bring Rochefort down. “It’s worth a try at least,” he finished.

“I’m not talking to anybody,” grunted Porthos and walked out of the room, banging the door with all the strength he had. They all looked at the door. They were sure it would fall off. Miraculously it did not. “He’s losing his touch,” commented Athos.

He felt that he needed air, the atmosphere in the room was unbearable enough, so he followed his friend. Porthos did not go far. He caught his friend on the stairs, standing on the landing and looking up to the skies.

Hearing him approaching, Porthos turned his head towards him. “I’m not talking to you.”

He sighed. “I know,” he said quietly. “Perhaps you let me talk to you then?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” said Porthos quickly. “What is it? A year and a half since? More?”

“So you’re talking to me,” he teased gently.

“And all this time I’ve been thinking that you got bored of my company,” Porthos continued. “Maybe he’s sick, I thought. Maybe he caught one of those diseases, I thought.”

“You’re still talking to me” he reminded him quietly.

“Nah, it seems you just had a secret,” Porthos’s rant was going on. “A secret you couldn’t share with your best friend. Best friend, my arse.”

“Porthos…”

“Porthos wasn’t good enough,” his friend fumed.

“Porthos…”

“Not good enough for the likes of Aramis who bedded the Queen.”

“PORTHOS!” he yelled. He finally got attention of his friend. “I didn’t ‘bed’ the Queen, I didn’t ‘sleep’ with the Queen. It was much more than that. It was and still is very important to me. The most important.”

Porthos looked at him closely. His anger seemed to subdue.

“I never meant to keep any secrets from you,” he said after a while. “You must understand why I had to.”

Porthos was looking down, seemingly taking in what he was saying to him. He sighed deeply. “Do you love her?” Porthos asked finally.

“If she were an ordinary woman, it might be possible” he replied. “But she isn’t.”

“You have a child!” Porthos whispered with a slight reproach in his voice.

“Ah, I should just walk away,” he said with a sigh. “But… I’ve never met a woman like her.” He looked at Porthos trying to say more with his eyes than his words. “Her courage, her endurance, her kindness. And she needed me.” He knew that he should add that he needed her and that he was not aware of it at the time. They always shared the details of their escapades with women but this was not it. This was something true and important. He had no words to describe her as she deserved it.

“If you really love her,” said Porthos in a serious tone. “There’s one thing you can do to prove it. Deny it ever happened. That boy is the King’s son, Aramis. That can’t change. No matter what.” Then he walked down the stairs and left Aramis alone.

He was shocked to the core. It was another of his friends telling him to forget her, to forget their son. He forgot himself these past months. He was in love, he was happy, he had everything he ever wanted. For a while he forgot this curse that was hanging over him, the curse that he brought on the women he loved. He could not let her die because of him. Not her. The sacrifices of Isabelle and Adéle were enough. She had to live. Had to.

 

VVV

 

After Tréville, Athos and d’Artagnan talked to her, it seemed that Milady de Winter was helping them. He had no time to think it through, he just accepted the fact. As he accepted that it appeared that Rochefort was a Spanish spy. Well, another reason to kill him then.

It was agreed that the Milady would show them the way to get into the palace without being seen and rescue the Queen. He could have told them that he knew the way to the Queen’s chambers which was much more discreet but he decided against it. The revelations of today were enough and he could not tell them about his nightly visits to the Queen without involving Constance. And that was something he would not do.

To his surprise, the Milady was true to her word. She did help them and they reached the Queen mostly unobserved, not counting a few guards they had to silence.

They burst into the Queens rooms, he immediately noticed that Constance was shielding the Queen with her body and held a heavy candlestick in her hand. She was indeed a brave woman.

“We must get you away from here to the place of safety,” he said without preamble.

She was surprised and confused, she was convinced that she should stay with the King. That is until she heard from Athos, “Rochefort is a Spanish spy, he will destroy you.”

She lost her composure for a moment. He saw how her carefully built world was falling apart. She even started to doubt if her own brother, the Spanish king, was on her side. He took a step towards her, “I beg you,” he said earnestly. “The palace is no longer safe. Rochefort knows now, the danger’s too great.” She looked at him and he saw a panic in her eyes. The events were rushing at her and she seemed lost in them.

But then she regained her composure. “I can’t abandon the Dauphin,” she said looking straight into his eyes. He understood her but they still needed to take her away from there. To his relief Constance offered to stay and look after the Dauphin. It was not the best of solutions but at least it convinced her to go with them.

They were more than fortunate and they sneaked out of the palace unobserved. They mounted the horses and rode for the convent, the same convent that held so many memories for her and him.

 

VVV

 

As Athos offered to stay behind to look through Rochefort’s papers for any proof of his treachery, they were only five of them arriving at the convent. They were welcomed with open arms by the nuns and the Queen was led to the Mother Superior’s chamber. Again a place of recollection for both of them. Tréville asked her to rest and tried to comfort her that Athos was surely to come soon and bring some good news. Tréville, d’Artagnan and Porthos left the room but he stayed behind. He saw that she wanted to talk.

“In time I must return to confront my enemies,” she began. “But you can escape, Aramis, have a different life, far away from danger.” If he ever needed a proof that he loved an extraordinary woman, there it was. In this dire circumstances she thought of his safety, she wanted to save him, not caring that her life was in danger. Any other time he would just go to her and took her in his arms. Not now. He forced himself to stay in place.

“I’ve never fled from danger in my life,” he whispered. He just looked at her, at this vision of beauty, the woman he loved and who loved him in return.

She took a step in his direction. “Won’t you save yourself for my sake?” she asked in a weak voice. “For the sake of my son,” she looked at him pleadingly. She looked towards the door nervously. “Our son,” she whispered. His heart was breaking at seeing her distress. But Athos’s warnings and Porthos’s advice were ringing in his head.

And yet despite it all he was unable to stop himself and he took a few steps towards her. “How could I live with myself if I abandoned my duty?” he asked in a whisper. She and the Dauphin were the only duty he recognised now. He must keep them safe. There was nothing more important than that.

“My only concern is for your safety,” he whispered again. He could not get the sadness that enveloped him out of his voice. “I swear I won’t allow anything to happen to you… because of me.”

He suspected that it would be the last time when they would have the opportunity to speak freely. So in his desperation and grief he took her hand in his hands and kissed it tenderly. For the first time ever, he bowed fully, not trying to look at her. He even closed his eyes to experience this act more. Then he felt her hand on his head and she took a step towards him. He felt her kissing his head. She stepped back and he released her hand. He walked slowly towards the door.  He was half way closing it when he heard her calling him by his name. He stopped and looked at the love of his life.

“Whatever happens,” she said quietly with a shy smile. “I will never regret what happened here.”

Whatever he wanted to say he forbade himself saying it. He had to keep her safe which meant a far away from him. He nodded slightly and closed the door.

He never thought one could live with a broken heart and yet he moved, talked and ate. When he finally went to bed prepared for him by the nuns, he was grateful for the darkness. No one could see the tears silently streaming down his cheeks.

 

VVV

 

Athos arrived in the morning with disconcerting news. The King was poisoned and they did not know if he were alive or not.

He looked at her when they were all sitting around the table in the refectory. He was proud of her, she was strong, resolute and decisive. And she emphasised that she needed to protect her son. But then she announced that she was going back to Paris. Tréville tried to make her wait for more news. Only d’Artagnan agreed with her, but it was quite obvious that he was worried about Constance and was keen to get back to Paris.

“I will decide my own fate,” she said finally. “And I must return whatever the risk.” He admired her courage and determination but he had to intervene, “With respect, that’s madness. You can’t be sure of your safety.” She looked at him firmly and explained that whatever happens to the King, her duty is clear. “I owe it to my son. And to France” she added and he understood that she made up her mind. He knew it was extremely risky but he decided that he needed to support her. He glanced quickly over the faces of others and saw that they had been silenced by the Queen’s argument. They needed a new plan so he started to talk about Vargas, the Spanish spymaster who to all accounts  was the person who turned Rochefort. They had to get to him somehow. After a short discussion they agreed to forge a letter from Rochefort to Vargas, from the help of the Mother Superior who turned out to be a talented copyist. They wanted to lure Vargas to France, kidnap him and bring him to the King to confess the whole truth. Porthos offered to go alone.

They said their farewells to Porthos and the Queen insisted again on their immediate return to Paris. They complied.

 

VVV

 

He had a bad feeling about this. It all seemed too effortless. They sent a message to Constance, yet it was Marguerite who replied. And she assured them that she would make sure that their arrival would not be noticed. The Queen had no reason to distrust Marguerite but he felt uneasy. His parting with the Dauphin’s governess was not too amicable. And there was this strange case of his cross missing. He was so used to having it that he hardly noticed. But he did realise now that it had gone missing after Marguerite accosted him in the corridor some time ago when she complained that he did not come to visit her anymore. And it was her who found it on the same day. He did not think about it much at the time but now the thought bothered him.

The Queen wanted to be with her son and her mind was focused only on that, yet he again felt uneasy when Marguerite led them in the direction opposite to the nursery. And his heart went cold with fear when Marguerite suddenly rushed to him and told him to run away. It was a trap! He shoved her away and run after the Queen and others. The musketeers had drawn their swords but were outnumbered by the Red Guards. Rochefort was waiting for them.  The Comte accused the Queen of poisoning the King.

His blood boiled. “It’s absurd,” he cried, “The Queen wasn’t even in the palace!”

Unperturbed Rochefort informed them that the Queen’s household was accused of conspiring, doctor Lemay had been already executed and Constance’s execution was to take place tomorrow. The situation seemed helpless.

And then came another blow, Rochefort not only accused the Queen of assassination attempt but also of unfaithfulness. She stood bravely and even confronted Rochefort, but the Comte had another ace up his sleeve. “You did know that your son’s governess was sleeping with your Musketeer too?” Rochefort asked her.

She turned her head and looked at Aramis with a look of despair, as if pleading him to deny it. He could not keep her gaze. He looked down, ashamed and angry with himself.

She was silent for a moment and then asked Rochefort to let her see the Dauphin. The Comte refused and told the guards to escort her to her rooms. Then he turned towards Aramis. “Arrest the musketeer Aramis under charge of high treason!” he said loudly, making sure everyone heard him.

He walked towards Rochefort, “What?” he asked stupefied, fighting of the guards who tried to grab him. He only stopped when Rochefort announced that these were the King’s orders.

The Comte got nearer to him and said in a low menacing voice, “Sleeping with the Queen has consequences. As you are about to discover.”

He knew that his life was about to end soon, and what was worse he brought the infamy and danger to the Queen and the Dauphin.

They led him down to the cellars and chained him to the wall. His mind was torturing him, he wanted to shut it off. He thought that he could not bear any more guilt but then he heard Constance’s voice coming from some other cell. He brought it on her too. His chains would not allow to get to the small,  barred window. He heard the exchange between Constance and d’Artagnan. They suffered because of him. He deserved everything that was coming his way but he could not forgive himself for bringing all this pain and suffering on the people he loved most in this world.

He went to his knees and prayed.

 

VVV

 

The morning broke and he woke up disoriented. Then suddenly the recent events rushed at him like a wave. He could hear the preparations for Constance’s execution. Each strike of a hammer was like a stab to his heart. He started to pray again. The prayer was his only refuge.

The hammering had stopped and he heard the people gathering in the courtyard. He heard the weak voice of Constance asking for her eyes not to be blindfolded. She was a very brave woman, he always knew that. His heart was breaking.

Then the commotion had started. He did not know what was happening. He pulled at his chains to try to reach the window but it was hopeless. He heard shouts, shots fired and men fighting. He guessed that the musketeers organised a rescue. He listened very closely and finally he was convinced that the rescue was successful. He sighed with relief. At least Constance was out of it. He prayed again to thank god for his mercy.

After some hours passed he heard the key turning and he looked behind him. Rochefort came with a visit. All the hatred that he felt for him surfaced again.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” began Rochefort. “Your life cannot be saved.”

That was not news for him, he realised that without Rochefort. But he wondered why the Comte came to him. Then it was clear. Rochefort tried to persuade him that if he confessed, the King would divorce the Queen, disown the dauphin and allow them to live in exile.

“You can save her, Aramis, just speak the truth.” Rochefort ended and left the cell.

How stupid did Rochefort think him to be? There was no chance for either the Queen or him. Rochefort wanted them dead.

‘That is the price you pay for indulging your deepest desires’ he told himself.

 

VVV

 

In the morning next day they led him upstairs. From what he could gather it was the room where the King’s ministers met.

Rochefort and several other men were sitting round the table, all eyeing him. He steeled himself in preparation. He had planned what he would say and only hoped that god would forgive him.

They made him swear on the bible to tell the truth.

“We are here to establish the facts of the queen’s infidelity,” Rochefort began. “You are accused of seducing the Queen at the convent and fathering her child.” He shuddered at the thought as it must have been received by the others gathered in the room. The Comte purposefully put it so crudely. But even if Rochefort suspected he had no proof, it was his pure conjecture. The Comte’s words against his. Perhaps there might have been some hope.

“Do you love the Queen, Aramis?” Rochefort question surprised him. Deep down he longed to say, nay, even scream to the world that he did, with all his heart.  “Will you confess?”

He cleared his mind. Now was his moment to sow the uncertainty in the minds of the ministers.

“I will,” he said. “I confess to knowing that you are a liar whose promises can never be trusted. You can never afford to leave the queen alive, Rochefort. She knows you’re a Spanish spy. She knows you are a murderer. You assaulted Her Majesty without invitation or provocation. And now you intend to conceal your lies by accusing the innocent?” His voice started to rise. “It’s Rochefort who is the traitor, it’s Rochefort who is the enemy. Rochefort who should be on trial!”

He tried to avoid lying at all costs. All he had said was the truth and he hoped it was received that way. He observed closely the Comte. He saw that his face changed when he mentioned the spying. Milady de Winter for once told the truth. Rochefort indeed was a Spanish agent.

“So you deny the charges?” Rochefort asked after a pause.

“I do,” he confirmed. He would not make it easy for Rochefort to condemn him. And then for the first time since he came into the room, he felt uneasy as in walked Marguerite. His mind was racing. Did she know anything that can confirm the accusations? Had he ever betrayed himself in her presence?

Rochefort started asking her questions regarding the behaviour she observed between him and the Queen.

“They were intimate,” she replied quietly. “Like lovers.” He recalled one moment Marguerite might have seen it, it could be when he rescued them from Marmion’s brutes. He remembered that neither him, nor the Queen were able to hide their joy at seeing each other alive.

Then Rochefort began to question her about her own liaison with him. The Comte tortured her by asking if Aramis’s interest in her was only for the sake of the child. It was clear that it was painful to her to admit that each time they saw each other, Aramis’s thoughts were always with the child. He felt guilty listening to her, because now she finally understood and admitted that he was not really interested in her but rather in the Dauphin. He felt sorry for her.

“Why did he care for him so much?” asked Rochefort.

Her response made his heart go cold with fear. “Because the Dauphin is his son,” she said angrily.

Despite everything, his heart went to her. He hurt her and that was her revenge. She must have done it out of sheer desperation. He did not mind taking all the blame but that way Marguerite condemned not only the Queen, but also the Dauphin. He understood that she hated him but was unaware that she hated the Queen. Unless of course, Rochefort made her say it. He tried to control his face. He was now scared for the life of Anne. The King may spare the child but the Queen’s fate was in peril.

Before she was led out, Marguerite rushed to him, crying his name in despair. He felt her pain but in all honesty he was only thinking about the Queen and the Dauphin.

Rochefort finally delivered his verdict – he was to be executed ‘in a manner appropriate to his heinous crimes’. That meant that there would be no quick death for him.

 

VVV

 

Back in his cell, he alternated between the despair and rage. He prayed in despair and pulled at his chains in rage.

He finally gave up. He accepted his fate and his only thoughts were of Anne.

“God,” he tried to bargain. “If you spare her and by some miracle I’m allowed to live, I vow to devote all my remaining days to your grace.” He did not care about his life anymore as long as she was allowed to live. “I will renounce all the worldly temptations, I will,” he continued his plea. “Even my duty.” He wanted to offer everything that was once dear to him for the life of a woman he loved above everything else. It seemed as a small price to pay.  

Then he heard the footsteps in the corridor, they were coming for him. “I’m not worthy of your mercy,” he addressed the god once again. He was ready. “My soul is prepared.”

The footsteps were getting closer and he heard the sounds that confused him. He thought that he definitely heard a man’s groan and a soft thud of body hitting the ground. He looked to the barred door and to his ultimate surprise he saw Milady de Winter, opening it with the key.

“God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?” she sneered. He was too dumbfounded to respond. They left the cell quickly and she led him through the darkened corridors to the exit where two horses were waiting for them.

God had his mercy on him, therefore now his only priority was to save Anne. And fulfil his part of the bargain.


	6. The Vow

_The Vow_

 

“It’s good to see you, Aramis,” said Athos, embracing him and kissing his cheek. In fact Porthos and d’Artagnan welcomed him no less enthusiastic. He was overwhelmed with emotion at seeing his dear friends. But he was especially overjoyed at seeing Constance safe and sound. She almost lost her life because of him.

Their plan was simple enough. They were to deliver Vargas, the Spanish spymaster, to the King and he was to divulge the incriminating information on Rochefort. Yet it was wrought with problems. How to sneak into the palace without being noticed by the courtiers and the Red Guards? After all, there was only five of them, not counting Constance who insisted on joining them, against the whole regiment. Well, the odds against them never really bothered the musketeers before so they proceeded with the plan.

To their surprise the palace was eerily empty. No courtiers and hardly any guards. They proceeded without much obstacles. His only thought was the Queen. He had to go to her to make sure she was safe. Constance went with him.

When he opened the door to her bedchamber, the view almost froze his heart. Rochefort was standing over a kneeling Anne and was in a process of strangling her. He could not just shoot him as he was afraid to harm Anne. He chose Rochefort shoulder and shot immediately.

“Get away from her!” he yelled. Rochefort staggered but reached for his sword.

“She belongs to me,” Rochefort hissed in reply.

‘Over my dead body,’ he told himself. The rage he felt for Rochefort substituted the blood in his veins. It helped that the Comte teased him by mentioning Adéle and Marguerite as women that loved him and whom he failed to protect. It gave him strength and even more determination to his aim of killing Rochefort.

The Comte was an able fighter but in the end he managed to plunge the dagger in his neck. Rochefort went to his knees and he was certain that he was bleeding to death. However, due to the Comte’s supernatural determination and oblivion to the pain, he got up and slowly pulled the dagger out of himself. Rochefort staggered towards the door where he faced Athos, Porthos and d’Artagnan pointing their swords at him.

He could not believe his eyes. Rochefort was still ready to fight them. He was weaker by a second but kept on fighting. Finally d’Artagnan swiftly and with undisguised satisfaction finished him by plunging his sword into the Comte’s chest.

Vargas, accompanied by Tréville, walked over to Rochefort. “It is finished. The French king knows everything.”

To everyone’s dismay, Rochefort took a long time to die.

“Liars,” he said looking at the Queen and Aramis.

“Yours are the lies, Rochefort,” said Anne icily. “And they will join you in your grave.”

As Rochefort finally stopped breathing, he walked over to Rochefort to close his eyes and bless him.

“No, Aramis,” he heard the Queen’s voice. “Not for him.”

He looked at her. She was watching Rochefort with hate and contempt. He understood. She could not forgive him for betraying her trust. Rochefort threatened to kill those the closest to him and he attacked her personally, was even ready to kill her with his own hands. As far as she was concerned, he deserved no Christian mercy.

The others were slowly leaving the room. Constance went to the Queen and embraced her, they whispered between themselves at their shared joy that the other was safe from harm.

He watched it with warm smile on his lips, he was extremely glad that the Queen had such a close and trustworthy friend. Constance looked at him and gave him a quick smile. Then she followed the others.

Anne looked at the corpse of Rochefort and went into her bedroom. He hesitated and then followed her.

“Your Majesty, there are no words to describe how happy I am seeing you unharmed,” he began nervously. “When I was in chains, I…”

He could not finish as she looked towards the door and then run into his arms. They kissed hungrily. When they paused for breath, she smiled at him. “I stopped counting the times you saved my life, Aramis. My only regret, when I was preparing myself to die, was the thought that I will never see you or our son again.”

His heart almost broke at hearing her words. How was he to say now what his plans were? He kissed her again.  When their lips parted again he looked nervously towards the door. She took a step away from him and smiled weakly. “I must go to the King now,” she said softly.

He bowed and followed her out of the room.

 

VVV

 

They were almost ready to leave the garrison for the palace. He looked for the Captain. He needed to talk to him while his resolve was still fresh. He saw him in the courtyard talking to stable boys. He went over there quickly.

“Captain,” he said quietly. “May I have a word?”

They stepped away into the shaded area. “I need to leave, Captain,” he said after a while.

“Leave? Where?” asked the Captain. “We are expected at the palace…”

“No,” he sighed heavily, avoiding Tréville’s eyes. “After that. I must leave.”

“All right. For how long?”

He smiled wanly. “For ever, I believe.”

The Captain’s face fell. “Tell me you’re joking, Aramis.”

“I would never joke about it,” he replied and finally met Tréville’s gaze.

“Why? What happened?” asked the Captain, grabbing his elbow.

“Quite a lot, I’d say,” he smiled wanly.

“You don’t have to do it. Everything’s fine now.”

He wondered how much he should say. “This is something I must do,” he offered finally.

At first Tréville tried to talk him out of it, but then he realised that Aramis’s mind was made up. At last the Captain sighed heavily. “I hate to lose you, Aramis. But if it is your decision…”

He nodded.

“Have you told the others yet?” the Captain asked.

“Well, good luck with that,” Tréville said after Aramis shook his head.

Soon they were joined by others, and all five of them walked slowly to the palace.

They walked into a fête in the gardens. The King was smiling, holding the Dauphin in his arms and chatting happily with the courtiers. “Of course he is my son,” the King said noticing the musketeers and even commented on the his likeness mirrored in the Dauphin.

On hearing that, Constance gave him a cheeky smile, but he just looked down. He raised his head only when he heard the King addressing them formally. He tried very hard to keep his eyes on the King but they strayed to the Dauphin and the Queen.

The King finally looked towards him. “And you have been grievously wronged, Aramis. And I’m sorry for it.”

The creeping guilt of deception took hold of him, but for the sake of the Queen and the Dauphin he had to keep it up. “You have no cause to apologise, Sire,” he said in a deep voice. “I am your humble servant.”

“Spoken like a true soldier of France,” smiled the King with satisfaction and then led Tréville away. His place was then taken by the Queen, she looked happy and contented.

“You’re safe now, Your Majesty,” he said rather confirming to himself the reality, reminded of the conditions he placed of the vow he had taken. “You’re both safe,” he added softly.

She beamed at him happily. “Thanks to you,” she looked straight into his eyes. “And your friends,” she moved her gaze to others. He tried to imprint her in his memory as that was probably the last time he would ever see her. The King called her and she walked away, he kept his eyes on her until she disappeared from view.

 

VVV

 

The four of them were walking slowly from the palace towards the garrison. His friends chatted happily but he did not hear them. He was thinking how to bring about the news of his leaving. He thought that if they reached the garrison his courage might be gone. He stopped suddenly and three pairs of eyes looked at him in surprise. He took a deep breath.

“I need to tell you all something,” he said in a strong voice.

They were still smiling when he started talking, but their faces fell when he explained that he would be resigning his commission and that he would take his residence at the monastery at Douai.

At first they disbelieved him but he continued his explanations and he mentioned the vow he took. Athos was silent. Porthos asked him if that was really what he wanted, he could only nod in response. Only d’Artagnan was not happy with his decision and asked if they were just going to let Aramis go.

After a long pause, Athos spoke. “He’s letting us go,” his friend said, he always knew that Athos understood more than others.

It pained him to say farewell to his brothers, but when he finally did so his soul felt lighter.

 

VVV

 

He left his weapons and his uniform in his room at the garrison. He looked around and he was about to leave when the thought struck him. The keys! He should return the keys to the secret passages at the palace. He was not ready to face the Queen and he did not think it would be appropriate anyway. And to be honest, he was scared to face Constance. She was bound to scold him and as much as he considered himself rather brave, his courage left him when he thought of explaining it all to Constance face to face.

He decided to write. He bound a handkerchief around the keys and attached a letter to it. Then he found a servant and sent him to the palace.

He wondered what Constance’s reaction would be and if he wrote the right words but it was done now and he was free to go. He took a step from the garrison’s gate and he just kept walking.

_“Dear Constance,_

_I have attached to the letter the keys that I had duplicated without your permission. If I had not said it before I apologise for any inconvenience caused._

_You are a loyal and true friend to Her as you are to me and I shall never forget your kindness and your friendship that you have so generously given._

_I am going away to join the monastery as I had made a vow to God. I asked Him to spare Her life and He granted me that blessing. Therefore it is only fair that I should devote my life to Him._

_I wish you and d’Artagnan all the best. As a friend I can only suggest that you keep him on a tight leash as he tends to act foolishly. He needs a strong and wise woman like you by his side. Please take good care of my friends Porthos and Athos too, do not let them get into too much trouble._

_Remember me fondly in your prayers._

_Your friend_

_Aramis_

_PS_

_I leave it to you to decide how to convey the message to Her._

 

 

VVV

 

Her hair was falling loosely in cascades over her shoulders. She was writhing in ecstasy over him and he would gladly have watched her reach her peak but he missed her lips. He sat up and took her head into his hands, she opened her eyes and he drowned in them as always. He kissed her hard and she moaned into his mouth. He never wanted it to stop.

He woke up with a start.  Disoriented, he looked around. He groaned in disappointment at the reality that hit him hard. He did not mind austere surroundings of a humble monk’s cell, he missed her, her body in his arms and her lips on his. He felt as if he could still taste her and his body still enwrapped in his dream, showed the clear signals of his excitement. He tried to think of something else to wither away his erection. The monk should not have dreams like that. He spent here nearly four years here and still he dreamed of her.

He tried very hard to fall into the mundane life of the monk but still the abbot found him lacking and did not allow him to take his orders. It seemed the abbot was right. Would he still have dreams like that if he were ready to be a proper monk? He was disappointed in himself but he could not help it. His dreams were beyond his control. Awake, during the day he could rebuke himself for thinking about her or the Dauphin, he only allowed himself to mention her and her son in his prayers, but the night was the domain of his hidden desires and they did not seem to subside.

It was night still, too late to go back to sleep and too early for morning prayers. He dressed quickly and went outside. He hoped the chilly air would clear his mind. He walked for quite a while. Then he heard the groans. They were weak and he strained his eyes to see from where they were coming.

He knew that he was not far from the road so he headed in that direction. And indeed he came upon an overturned cart and dead bodies lying around it. He heard the groan again and he dashed to the man, lying on his side.

“Are you wounded, Monsieur?” he asked and immediately reprimanded himself for his stupidity. It was quite obvious. The man opened his eyes, “Help me, please.”

He sprang into action. He checked with his hands for the wounds and felt a sticky liquid on his fingers when he touched the man’s chest. There was no time he had to take him to the monastery to look after the wounded man properly. Very gently and with great exertion he carried the man. He only hoped he would make it in time to save the man’s life.

 

VVV

 

He cleaned the wound and even followed Doctor Lemay advice’s by submerging his instruments in the boiling water first. He was successful, he got the bullet out and stitched the wound. He was quite pleased with his stitching work but there was no one to admire it. The monks were not prone to praise. At that moment he truly missed his friends. He last saw them soon after he arrived at the monastery. They came to take him back, the war with Spain had started and Porthos wanted him right by his side. That was one of the hardest decisions he had to make in his life. And the disappointed look on Porthos’s face haunted him for months after. But he could not go with them, he made his vow and he meant to keep it. Athos and d’Artagnan were not happy but they just sadly nodded. Porthos ranted. He listened to his friend politely and just repeated his arguments in a quiet voice. Porthos did not even wait for him to finish, he stormed out of the room and he would have slammed the door if the door’s hinges worked properly, which they never did.

He looked after the retreating figures of his friends as they were disappearing in the distance but he did not feel sad. He was convinced that he did a right thing. “Are you absolutely certain of your decision?” asked the abbot gently who suddenly appeared at his side.

“I’ve never been more certain in my life,” he said earnestly.

“Hmmm,” replied the abbot and slowly walked away.

When he thought about it now he was still convinced of the rightfulness of his decision. He vowed to devote his life to god and he was doing the god’s work. He was charged with looking after the orphaned children that somehow found their way into monastery and he helped in the infirmary. He should feel complete and yet there were those dreams that tormented and elated him at the same time.

The man stirred and opened his eyes. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe,” he replied. “Don’t excite yourself. You’re at the monastery at Douai. You should recover within the days.”

“You saved my life,” the man whispered.

“You were a man in need and god wanted you to survive the ordeal,” he said smiling.

“My companions?” the man asked anxiously.

“I’m afraid they are with their god. I’ve asked my brothers to fetch their bodies and bury them in a godly fashion.”

“I’m most grateful to you for all you did. My name is Cardinal Mazarin,” said the man. “I was coming back from my mission to Amsterdam when we were attacked. I need to return to Paris as soon as I can. The ministers would be …”

“I must stop you,” Aramis interrupted. “I vowed to myself not to heed any news from Paris.”

”That’s a very peculiar vow, if you don’t mind my saying so,” said the Cardinal smiling weakly.

He chuckled softly. “I suppose it is a little foolish but it helps me to keep my head focused on the practicalities of life here.”

“You are the most unusual monk, Brother…”

“Aramis,” he paused. “I’m not a proper monk yet. Not according to the abbot. Anyway you must rest now, Cardinal. We’ll talk later.” He smiled, got up and left the infirmary in a hurry. God moves in a mysterious way indeed. He knew of Mazarin, he was a close accomplice of Cardinal Richelieu. The memories had rushed in and he had to clear his head again.

 

VVV

 

“Ah, brother Aramis,” cried Mazarin. “I thought I might find you here. Are those your charges?” he asked pointing at the children playing in the field in the distance.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Cardinal,” he replied.

“And all thanks to you, Aramis” said the Cardinal, smiling at him. “ If you hadn’t found me, I would be meeting my dear friend, Richelieu by now.”

He chose not to comment. It was bad enough that Richelieu’s name brought the old memories but he decided to be wary of Mazarin because of his connections.

“I see that you don’t trust me,” said the Cardinal. “It’s understandable. Richelieu, god rest his soul, was no friend to the musketeers and you were one of them.”

He looked at the Cardinal surprised.

“Oh yes, I remember you well, Aramis. Believe it or not, I have talked about you often with my dear departed friend before the birth of the Dauphin.” The Cardinal looked at him closely.

“I don’t know what I have done to deserve this distinction,” replied Aramis cautiously.

“Do not worry, my friend,” Mazarin smiled gently. “I’m not Richelieu. I didn’t share his obsession of destruction of the musketeers. What I did share was the love of France, even though I’m Italian myself. Thus your secret is safe with me.”

“My secret?” he tried to remove the anxiety from his voice.

“As I said, do not worry,” the Cardinal replied calmly. “If anything, the royal blood benefitted by the addition. The boy is strong and healthy.”

He should have stopped the Cardinal but he was grateful to know that the Dauphin was well. Despite himself, he wanted to know now about the Queen, but he did not want to confirm the Cardinal’s suspicions. After all, Mazarin had no proof and it was safer that way.

“And anyway,” continued the Cardinal, “With the birth of the second son, any murmurs of infidelity were removed.”

The news shocked him. It should not but it did. But then he thought that her position at the court and with the King was stronger now. She was safe. And that was more important than… ‘Don’t go there,’ he told himself stopping his thoughts. She was the Queen, she was married to the King and he now was a monk. As it all should be.

“I hated Rochefort,” said Mazarin frankly. “He was like a disease. I fled to Avignon as I wanted no part of what he was doing. And I’m more than grateful that you helped to bring him down. Now I work with Tréville and although he is less fun than Richelieu, he is good for France and that is all that matters to me.”

He was silent, he thought it best. He did not know if he could trust Mazarin.

“Tell me one thing, Aramis,” said the Cardinal after a while. “Do you still love the Queen?”

Again he was shocked to the core. That straightforward question baffled him and left him speechless. He was reminded of Rochefort asking him that. He shivered.

“I was in love once,” mused the Cardinal. “Truly in love. But then the world of politics and soldiery took me. Oh, and I was a priest of course,” Cardinal Mazarin chuckled to himself. “And yet I still wonder sometimes if I made the right choice. What are the privileges of my position in comparison with the embrace of the loving woman and the laughter of happy children at my feet?” He paused. “Well, I’ll never know the answer to that but I wonder if you will.” The Cardinal patted his back and slowly walked back to the monastery.

 

VVV

 

It was some months after the Cardinal left the monastery, that the war finally found them. The noises of the far away battle were heard in the monastery and frightened the children.

And yet he had a problem of keeping them inside. Luc, the oldest of his charges, was always slipping outside. He had no choice he had to look for him. He blamed himself, he was always telling him and other children the stories of the exploits of the musketeers, even though he deftly omitted his part in them. Due to this, Luc was enamoured with soldiers, he even made himself a crude badge with metal fleur-de-lis, and when he heard the sounds of battle nearby, he run towards it.

He finally found Luc, the sight almost froze him on the spot. A man was aiming his pistol at Luc. Beyond the man were bodies of murdered soldiers; it did not look like a fair fight but rather like an execution. Luc seemed to be a witness of it.

He loudly exclaimed his delight at finding Luc and tried to persuade the thug that Luc was just one of the children that saw nothing. He inwardly prayed that his habit and little Catherine on his arm made him look harmless. It worked, the assassin let them go. He sighed with relief and led his charges back to the monastery. What he saw frightened him for the safety of his brothers and children.

He really tried to warn the abbot and convince him that they should flee. The abbot took no notice of his warnings. Instead he gently rebuked him for still thinking like a soldier. There was some truth in it, he had to admit. “I’ve become very fond of you over these past few years, Aramis,” finally said the abbot. “Your company pleases me. But your soul is as restless and confused as it was on the day you arrived here. You’ve been looking for something you may never find in life of contemplation.”

He felt that the abbot might have been right. He always seemed to fail the ultimate test and the abbot kept refusing him taking his orders.

But at that moment he knew that he was right, and when he heard the banging on the monastery gate and arrival of a band of mean-looking men, he decided to hide the children at least. Then he saw the abbot brutally murdered by the band leader, there was no time to hesitate, he had to try to save his charges. He led them to the cellars and made them hide behind the barrels. He was worried, in all this commotion he lost Luc. But he suddenly heard the bell ringing and he understood where Luc went. He prayed for his safety.

 

 

 

So far, the thugs did not find them and the children were very good at keeping silent, but he knew they could not stay there for long. Suddenly he heard some strange noises. Some men were coming from the other side than the door and he was convinced that their hideaway was found. How he longed for a pistol and a good sword. Instead he could only try to distract them by throwing barrels at the intruders or shoving them into their path.

“Show yourself!” he heard one of the man shouting. The voice sounded familiar but he had not time to think. Instead he thought he would try to make the intruders follow him far away from the children.

But then he saw them. “This is not possible,” he said bewildered. There were his dear brothers, Athos, d’Artagnan and Porthos. He embraced all of them and even though he noticed that Porthos’s hug was less warm than the others’, he could not hide his absolute joy at seeing his old comrades. Firstly, because now he was certain that the god spared them and they are alive, and secondly, because he knew that they brought the hope for his charges and the monastery itself.

He and his friends quietly started to plan their escape. He was still acutely aware of the distant attitude of Porthos towards him. Athos noticed his disappointment and advised him to give Porthos time. He missed all his friends, but he missed Porthos the most, they had been close friends for so long.

He finally managed to speak with Porthos alone. Porthos clearly still held a grudge against Aramis refusing to join them to fight the war. He tried to explain that he made a vow to god and himself. In reply, Porthos asked him bitterly about the vow he made to his friends. He did not have a good answer to that. And then Porthos told him that four years was a very long time. “We learned to live without you,” his friend said bitterly.

That hurt him deeply. In his determination he forgot to think about the impact of his leaving had on those closest to him. The thought of his selfishness crossed his mind. Was he wrong in his actions?

During that evening both Athos and Luc asked him the same question. Whenever he mentioned that he renounced his previous life to live in the monastery, they both asked ‘And now?’.

In both cases he avoided that question, he did not have the answer to that either. Seemingly nothing changed and yet when he later had to fight the thugs who attacked the children and the monks he felt so exhilarated and so complete that his mind was confused.

And when he helped Porthos to dispatch the stolen gunpowder, and when he shot and fought he knew he missed that in his life.

“Now, are you going to try and tell me you didn’t enjoy that?” asked Porthos. They looked at each other and they both laughed heartily for a long time.

When the monastery was safe again and the thugs were chased away, he went to the chapel to have a conversation with god.

“I thought I understood your plan,” he began. “Now you… seem to be showing me another path.” He thought about his joy at meeting his friends and joining them in a fight. “In the middle of all that danger and excitement today, you were closer to me than at any time in all my years here. I’ve never felt so… alive.” Perhaps it was god’s way to remind him of who he really was and that he should not try to deny it. He finally understood. “This is what you made me,” he smiled to himself. “A musketeer.“

He noticed Athos standing in the shadows and apparently listening on his conversation with god.

“You are many things, Aramis,” said Athos quietly. “But a monk is not one of them.”

He smiled at Athos. His friend was always the wisest of them. He put his arm around Athos. “You can’t argue with god.”

They walked to the courtyard and were met by two satisfied smiles of d’Artagnan and Porthos.

“I knew it,” commented Porthos.

“Admit it,” said d’Artagnan with the mischievous smile. “You can’t really live without us.”

He smiled at both of them and chuckled when he saw a fourth horse readied for him, patiently waiting for its rider.

“I can’t argue with god,” he told them. “But I definitely can’t win when it comes to my friends.”

 

VVV

 

When they reached Paris, they all just stopped and looked at it with longing. Neither of them had been to Paris since they all left it four years ago. He was sure each of them had their own thoughts and expectations on their return. He was just glad that he was back with his friends and was ready for anything the life would bring him.

He did not expect a particularly warm welcome but was pleasantly surprised when Tréville’s face broke into a genuine, warm smile at the sight of him. His former Captain accepted him back as if nothing happened. He was home. When they approached the palace he was nervous at first but being here now he felt as if he never really left.

He did not see the Queen or the Dauphin but for once he did not actively seek them. ‘Four years is a long time.’ Porthos’s words rang in his head. She might be a happily married woman now, especially since the second child was born, he had not right to intrude on her life now.

And he might have thought that nothing changed but in fact Paris he saw was very different to the one he left. It felt more hostile, more unhappy and full of misery and pain. But for now he just enjoyed his friends’ company. During their long journey they entertained him with their war stories and he listened spellbound. A twinge of jealousy pained him when he thought about missing so much, but then he thought that this long spell outside the real world made him appreciate it more.

There was just one face more he needed to see but he waited patiently, Constance and d’Artagnan deserved they time alone and yet he was very impatient to see her. When the happy couple finally emerged from their room, he was gratified with the happy cry that escaped Constance when she stopped hugging Athos and Porthos and saw him.

“I thought I would never see you again, Aramis,” she said when she stopped hugging him. “And we need to talk,” she added in a whisper, throwing him a knowing look.

The dinner went in the atmosphere of laughter and loud talking. The latter made mostly by Porthos and d’Artagnan, Athos was as usual reserved in his smiles.

At one point Constance said next to him. “Is that the time for our talk?” he tried to joke but deep down was uneasy.

“I’m happy that you’re back, don’t get me wrong…” began Constance.

“But…” he offered.

“But I have to tell you that I was cross with you that you had left without saying goodbye. AND you missed my wedding!” she finished.

“I apologise for the latter, I’m sure you looked beautiful.” He paused. “But as to the former I wrote you a letter. Didn’t you get it?”

“I got it alright,” she replied slightly miffed. “But I would prefer to be told in person. Perhaps I’d be able to talk you out of it.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he smiled at her and she smiled back. Then his thoughts went to the Queen and his face got serious. He did not know how to ask Constance about her.

She must have understood immediately. “I tried to explain to her your intentions, you know,” she said softly. “She wasn’t pleased is all I can tell you.” She paused. “In fact, I think she resented me a little for getting a letter from you, when she got none.” He looked down unable to look into Constance’s eyes.

They fell silent for a while. “Anyway, I left her service soon after. With me being married and all that.” Constance smiled weakly.

He felt he needed to change the subject, he did not think his heart could bear any more of it. “And how’s the married life treating you, Constance?”

She did not reply immediately, instead she continued their previous subject. “I keep visiting her from time to time…” She bit her lip. “I presume you know about Philippe? Her… other boy, I mean.”

He just nodded. There was not much to say. “Sometimes I worry, Aramis,” Constance said with sadness in her voice. “She’s so alone there…”

“What do you two keep whispering about?” interrupted d’Artagnan who suddenly appeared at Constance’s side.

“Lonely life,” Constance replied quickly.

“Oh, don’t worry about Aramis, my dear, he’ll soon find someone to share his lonely evenings, I’m sure,” d’Artagnan chuckled.

Constance looked at Aramis nervously and then glared at d’Artagnan. “What?” he asked surprised. “What did I say?... Oh, right… I didn’t mean…”

“It is all right, brother,” he said getting up. “The life at the monastery is quieter than here, I’m not used to such late hours. I think I may go to bed now.” He smiled at the couple and turned to go but was stopped by Porthos’s voice.

“Where are you going, Aramis?” yelled Porthos laughing. “You’re not a monk anymore.”

He just smiled and waved at his friend, he mounted the stairs quickly and disappeared into the building.

Back in his room, he was left with his thoughts. He did not think his return to Paris would be easy but it was getting harder by the day. He reached for the cross that was still hanging on his neck and kissed it.

 

VVV

 

He fell into a musketeer’s life more or less easily. He was at first a little rusty but thanks to the help from Athos and Porthos his fighting skills were up to his former level. When he did not think about the Queen and the Dauphin, he was quite happy. He avoided the palace as much as he could and Constance did not drag him again into one of her ‘talks’ again. She only mentioned the Queen when she returned from the visit with her. He observed her closely. She was lost in thoughts and less cheery though.

Even though he promised himself earlier that he would not do it, he finally broke. “Did she… was the Queen in good spirits?” he asked finally.

She looked around nervously and assuring herself they were not overheard she replied. “She tries to be. But I know her well.” She sighed deeply. “She’s worried. And I’m worried about her. Apart from Tréville, she has no friends at the palace. The children are her only refuge. She is sad, Aramis. So sad. I don’t think I ever saw her so sad. And even then she worries about me.” She sighed again.

His heart was breaking. “And the King…”

“Oh, him,” Constance scoffed. “He treats her even worse than he did when Rochefort was alive.” She paused. “Ah, well, there’s nothing we can do about it, Aramis. But I’ll try to visit her more often to cheer her up.” She patted his arm and left the room.

His mind was in a whirlwind. All this time he thought her happy and contented. And now he learned otherwise. His heart went to her. Despite her position in life, she had no real joy out of it. He remembered her smiling face when she had been greeting him with open arms during that blessed time they spent together. But Constance was right, there was nothing anyone could do. He could not risk getting closer to her and was more than grateful to Constance for her unwavering friendship to the Queen. He hit the doorframe with his open palm in frustration.

 

 

 

Gaston, Duke of Orléans, was recalled from exile and was greeted back to the palace. They all knew that it spelled trouble. And indeed soon enough he caused troubles. He plotted against the King again, the very reason he was exiled in the first place.

They were fortunate enough to get the evidence against the Duke and Tréville wanted all four of them to accompany him to the palace.

He felt nervous again being back to the Louvre. But this time he hoped to catch at least a glimpse of either the Queen or the Dauphin. And as they were walking down the corridor, he looked through the window. There were some ladies gathered on one of the lawns with two small children at play. He guessed rather than knew that the taller of the boys was the Dauphin, he had the Queen’s hair and was happily swooshing back and forth with his little wooden sword. The other, smaller boy was sitting on the grass and quietly played with toy soldiers. That, he supposed, was Philippe. He looked towards his friends but none of them noticed him stopping, so he decided to leave them and at least to have a better look from a safe distance. Hu rushed downstairs.

He hoped no one would stop him. He walked slowly towards the group and he thought that if he stood further out, closer to the trees, no one would pay any attention to him.

He observed the Dauphin at play. He smiled at his courageous thrusts at the shield held by his governess. When he left Paris, the Dauphin was merely a babe, just over a year old. Now he was a walking and talking boy. He missed so much. His first steps, his first words. But at least he saw that he was healthy and handsome.

He was startled by the footsteps on the gravel path. The Queen. God, she was so beautiful, in his eyes she had not changed at all. He bowed with deference. He watched her face, she was not smiling, she just looked at him with a serious face. He waited for her to address him but she was silent.

“When I returned to Paris, it felt like four years had passed in a moment,” he ventured. “Now it feels like forever.” He turned his gaze towards the boy again. In the corner of his eye he noticed that she followed his gaze. “He’s big,” he said and smiled seeing the boy aiming at Gaston’s nether areas. “He’s grown so tall,” he added wistfully.

She did not reply immediately. Then she turned her face back to him. “Why are you here?” she asked coldly. It was like a cold stab to his heart. She did not even try to be polite towards him.

“To stand witness against the Duke of Orléans,” he replied softly.

She looked down. “Then do so,” she said, again in that same cold tone. He understood then that he lost her and was speechless. Paraphrasing Porthos, she learned to live without him. Then he saw his three friends in the distance, so he bowed to her deeply and walked away.

“What did you talk about?” asked Athos suspiciously when he reached the musketeers.

“Nothing,” he answered brusquely. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.” He tried not to notice how his friends exchanged glances between them.

“If there’s something we should know…” Porthos began.

“There’s nothing,” he interrupted him angrily. “I’ve told you.” And he walked past them quickly. He wanted to be alone now but there was no hope for it.

Suddenly he heard a familiar voice. “Brother Aramis,” said Cardinal Mazarin with a genuine smile on his face. “I knew I would see you again.” Then the Cardinal must have seen his face. “This is a bad time for reminiscences I see.”

He tried to control his voice. “It is nice to see you again, Cardinal.” But he knew he could not keep it up. “Forgive me, Cardinal, I must hurry now.”

“Of course, of course,” replied the Cardinal, looking at him searchingly. He gave a curt bow and stormed out of the gardens. His friends followed him in silence.

Back at the garrison, he went straight to his room. He met Constance in the corridor. “Aramis? What happened?”

He did not want to be rude to her. He just shook his head, entered his room and closed the door behind him.

He could not understand why he was so angry. He thought that he had reconciled with the idea of her not loving him anymore but to face her and hear the proof of it was a different matter. She was not angry with him, she just was not interested. And it hurt. So much. His feelings towards her had not changed, if it was possible they were even stronger now.  He thought that it was his penance for the hubris of thinking that Anne could still have some feeling for him.

He felt empty inside.

 


	7. She's Mine

_She’s Mine_

 

The riot at Châtelet was an annoyance. The prisoners who escaped were running amok all over Paris. The Red Guards were useless again and it fell to the musketeers to round up the escapees. They were successful and nearly all of them were caught. The ones caught by the musketeers were held at the courtyard of the garrison as apparently Châtelet prison was not ready to receive them back yet.

It was the Dauphin’s sixth birthday and all day he had been thinking of him. Six years ago he became a father who could never acknowledge his son. He sometimes asked himself if it would have been better if that momentous night at the convent had never happened. And each time he answered himself with conviction that even if he could never hear his son call him ‘papa’, it was worth it. His son was strong and healthy and if god allows, he would have a long and prosperous life. And whatever the feelings the Queen had for Aramis now, their bond was unbreakable.

Meanwhile, they were still hunting for the prisoners. He joined Constance who was worried about one of her blind neighbours because he was not easy with her walking the streets of Paris alone, especially at this time, when dangerous criminals were out and about. They found Madame Joubert in the hands of some criminals who kidnapped her. They were not from the prison, so there had to be another reason. After rescuing Madame Joubert, he and Constance patiently asked her for the reasons of her kidnapping. After a while he realised what was really happening. Monsieur Joubert was held at Châtelet and he was responsible for devising the complicated keys for the King’s treasure vault. The riot was only an excuse, someone wanted to rob the King as the gold reserves were held under Châtelet. He run to tell the musketeers. And fortunately they were right in time to stop the robbery. They even found Joubert alive and delivered him back to his cell. But then Joubert, overhearing their conversation, told them about Borel, the lunatic who was a murderer and the one who d’Artagnan, taking pity on Borel, left with the nuns. What was more, Borel thought himself to be a true king and knew about the Dauphin’s birthday celebrations.

There was only one place this madman would go, so they all headed to the palace. He knew d’Artagnan was acting for good reasons but now they had a situation, when a deranged ex-soldier, who thought himself to be a king, was somewhere in the grounds of Louvre.

When they got there Porthos tried to persuade him to stay away as he thought it would be better if Aramis did not see the Queen or the Dauphin.

He understood what Porthos was aiming at but he was determined. Anne’s and the Dauphin’s lives were in danger. There was no way he would be idle. “But if you’re going,” he replied to Porthos. “It’s my duty.” That left Porthos without the argument.

They went inside. The rooms were full of people invited to celebrate the Dauphin’s birthday. It all was very lavish.

He saw her from afar. She looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. He could not help it, he just stared.

Her face expressed different feelings in comparison to the day when he met her in the gardens. She seemed to be surprised to see him, her cheeks were flushed, she looked straight into his eyes but her gaze was not icy as it was the last time.

Quite predictably, and indubitably because he saw them looking at each other, Athos suggested that he and d’Artagnan check the gardens for this madman. He complied to the order from his captain. But before he left he could not help himself and he stole another look at her. And to his delight he found out that she did the same. His heart skipped a beat. Perhaps not everything was lost.

They searched the gardens thoroughly and the only suspicious figures they found were the couple of courtiers engaged in some hurried lovemaking.

“I suppose it is not him,” he asked d’Artagnan with mischievous smile.

“I don’t think even Borel can charm Duchesse de Beaufort enough to perform so enthusiastically,” replied d’Artagnan smiling. “I wonder if the Duke is aware of her love for the outdoors.”

They both chuckled and walked slowly back towards the palace, still looking around. They met with Athos and Porthos. They did not find him either. The only unnerving news was that the Queen was missing, she was nowhere to be found.

Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw them. The Queen was walking backwards and she was facing a man in ill-fitting clothes and the wig gesticulating at her in animation. He and Athos headed for the path the Queen was in. D’Artagnan and Porthos covered their flanks. He ran at first but as they got closer to the Queen, he started to walk not to frighten unduly the madman.

But when Borel raised his arm with the pistol in it and directed it at her, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “STOP!”

Borel did not pay any attention to him. “Even my Queen is against me!” the madman screamed at her.

He needed to think quickly. “She’s not the Queen,” he cried in desperation. “She’s not the Queen!” he said loudly, trying to sound calm. “She’s an impostor.”

Borel laughed madly. “You’re trying to trick me!”

“No,” he said, fearing the worst. “I swear it. She’s…” he hesitated. What was he supposed to say more?

“She’s what?” demanded Borel. At least he made the madman listen to him. He searched for words. Then he opted for the truth.

“She’s mine,” he said.

“No, no, no, no.” said Borel. “Now I know you’re lying. She must die!”

He knew Borel was ready to shoot. “No!” he yelled and jumped to the Queen, pushed her to the ground. As they were falling he heard the shot and he was not sure if the madman succeeded. Then the second shot rang and Borel fell to the ground. D’Artagnan shot him. He looked at her and saw that she was not hurt and then he felt that his cheek was burning like hell. When he touched it he saw the blood on his hand, so he assumed the bullet from the madman’s pistol must have grazed him.

Porthos came over and helped the Queen to get up. She was shaking with fear. “Are you all right, Your Majesty?” Porthos asked.

“I’m fine, Porthos, thank you”, she replied weakly.

Then she looked at him and saw the blood on his cheek. “You’re hurt, Monsieur.”

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty,” he replied but winced as the wound was stinging. She reached to the pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt and gave him her handkerchief. “Here, take this at least,” she said but still avoided his eyes.

“We must take you back to the palace, Your Majesty,” said Athos calmly. “The King must be worried about you.” He looked at Aramis and gave him a slight nod.

When they reached the palace, they waited as Athos went to find Tréville and the King. She stood in the middle of the room and he unconsciously went to stand by her side. Porthos and d’Artagnan kept their distance.

“You risked your life for me again, Monsieur,” she said quietly turning her head towards him.

“It is my duty, Your Majesty,” he whispered and was finally gratified as she looked into his eyes.

“That thing that you said in the gardens…” she began after a while but was interrupted by the arrival of the King, accompanied by Athos and Tréville.

The King did not look worried but rather annoyed. It was explained to him that the madman was found in the grounds of the palace.

“He’s been dispatched…” Aramis began.

“Get away from her!” interrupted the King angrily and he had to take a few steps into the back.

Then the King asked the Queen if she needed the assistance from the medic, but he asked rather out of politeness than genuine concern.

“I am unharmed,” said the Queen firmly. “Thanks to the musketeers.” He could hear in her voice that she was angry.

The King just shrugged his shoulders and left the room.

There was an eerie silence when he left. Finally Tréville broke it. “Let me escort you to your chambers, Your Majesty.” She hesitatingly stole a glance at Aramis and left the room with the Minister.

He gingerly took out his cross and pressed it to his lips.

 

VVV

 

On the next day, Constance came to his room and announced that he and d’Artagnan were to escort her to the palace that morning. He tried to ask her why but she quickly left his room, leaving him bewildered.

On their walk to the palace, they never spoke and he hesitated to ask her again for the reason they were going there. He tried to ask d’Artagnan the question with his eyes but his friend only shrugged his shoulders.

As they entered the Queen’s parlour, she got up from the settee. She only looked at Constance, who after she curtseyed, went to embrace the Queen. The Queen then addressed the musketeers but her gaze never strayed in his direction. She expressed her gratitude for saving her life and risking theirs. D’Artagnan said with a bow and smile that it was their duty.

He was silent, he was observing her face. The Queen exchanged some further pleasantries with Constance and d’Artagnan. Then the silence followed. After the Queen and Constance exchanged a look, Constance gave him an anxious look and whispered “We can’t be here long, Aramis.” He gave a quick nod, not really understanding what was the purpose of that warning. Constance took d’Artagnan by the hand and they went to sit on the sofa in the furthest corner of the room, quite out of earshot.

Meanwhile the Queen moved to the window and stood with her back to him. He suspected she had arranged it all with Constance as she wanted to talk to him. He was moderately happy, he did not know what it meant but he was grateful for this moment of almost privacy.

“Did you mean it, Monsieur?” she asked quietly after a moment without turning to face him.

That was much too broad a question and he was confused. “Your Majesty?”

“What you said yesterday in the gardens,” she replied.

How could he even start to explain? So much time passed since they talked. He knew that his feelings for her had not changed. However, he was no longer sure of hers, quite the opposite.

“Your Majesty,” he began hesitatingly. “The man was a madman… I had to find the right words to distract him… I needed a ruse – “

“A ruse?” she interrupted for once breaking the tone of their hushed conversation.

This was not going as well as he had hoped. “I mean I needed to find a way to stop him from what he intended to do,” he finally managed.

She moved from the window and sat in the chair near the fireplace. She did it all without even giving him a glance. “Is that a convoluted way of telling me that you did not mean it?” she addressed the fireplace.

‘When did she get to be so sarcastic?’ he asked himself. Four years is a long time. He did not believe he changed that much, but then he was not exposed to court politics, schemes and veiled aggression as he suspected she had to face.

“Your Majesty,” he started softly. “It is not really for me to say if that statement was true.” He paused searching her face for any reaction. “As much as it would be my heart’s desire, I have no knowledge on that matter,” he finished almost in a whisper.

She blinked several timed nervously and she licked her lips. He watched her closely, he held his breath awaiting her response.

“Your glib excuses are rolling off your tongue quite easily,” her quiet voice sounded bitter. That was the response to her own question. She was no longer his. She was angry with him. She no longer loved him. The last one was the hardest to bear, even if he had suspected it before. He thought it would be better if he did not comment. Her eyes left the fireplace and moved to the big picture, hanging over the mantelpiece, depicting her two children.

“Why did you abandon us, Monsieur?” she addressed the picture.

Whatever he expected, he did not expect that. He exhaled loudly in surprise. Despite her regal poise, he could hear the acute pain in her voice. All this time that he stayed away, he was convinced that it was the best decision for both of them. He must have been wrong. She did not see it that way.

“That’s not how I saw it, Your Majesty,’ he finally managed.

“Indeed?” her face was flushed with anger but her eyes never strayed from the picture.

This was definitely not going the way he had imagined it would.

“I went away because I had to,” he began after a pause. “I made a vow…” How was he to explain? She was angry with him, would she really listen?

“I thought you made a vow to me… to us,” she replied in a much calmer tone. “Not that it matters now, I suppose.” Her words gave him an excruciating pain.

“We are all well as you can see,” she said looking towards the window. “Even without your protection.”

“Ana…”

Her back stiffened and she sharply turned her head in his direction for a moment but still studiously avoided his eyes. “I do not think it is appropriate for a musketeer to call the Queen by her first name,” she said icily to the fireplace.

‘She is punishing me,’ he told himself. He might have even agreed with her that he deserved it. He suddenly decided if he did not say what he wanted to say he might not have another opportunity in the future. “I made a vow to god…”

“And yet you broke that one too,” she interrupted.

“Please, let me finish and you won’t hear a word more from me.” After a moment she nodded.

“I made a vow to god that if he spared your life in his mercy, I would devote my life to him. I was desperate and ready to die. I was chained to the wall and waiting for death. The safety of you and of your son was more important than my life. I thought that by going away I would make your life safer, easier.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I only loved twice before you.” She closed her eyes. “And both those women died because of me. You are the love of my life. I couldn’t risk it. I had to go away. I only came back because I finally realised that god might still have other plans for me.” He watched her face.  “And I was a lousy monk anyway,” he added with a small smile.

Her face remained unchanged and he realised that he must have lost her. Irrevocably. He said what he had to say. He was waiting only for her verdict. She raised her head and once again looked at the picture of her two boys.

“Louis is a very smart boy,” she finally said after a long pause and a small smile brightened her face as she looked at the picture. He missed that smile so much. “He learns quickly and he is a good, polite little boy. He loves his pony and always comes up with new ideas for their games. He always knows how to get what he wants. His hair looks like mine even if his locks are always unruly. Like his father’s.” She paused but kept her eyes glued to the picture. He finally followed her gaze and drank her words as if they were the sweetest elixir. ”He reminds me of myself when I was a child, even if his eyes are dark. Like his father’s.” She paused a little longer after that. “Philippe is the sweetest child. He loves everyone and is loved by everyone. He likes everything that is pretty. He tries to follow his brother in everything but he enjoys play fighting more than Louis. He loves his toy soldiers more than anything.” She took a deep breath. “Louis is the King’s favourite and Philippe is mine. His eyes are dark and beautiful, and he is smart enough to use them to get away with any mischief. His hair is dark and soft. And unruly.” She paused again. “Like his father’s.”

When her words sank in, he felt as if the lightning bolt hit him. His head was spinning. He looked at her face but she kept smiling gently at the picture. Instinctively he took a step towards her. “Ana…” he whispered but he was speechless. She finally turned her head towards him and looked into his eyes. Her smile, however, disappeared.

“Are you telling me… Do you mean that…” he was unable to finish. He was in shock.

She kept looking at him but then she looked down and gave a short nod. He did not care if Constance and d’Artagnan saw it, he did not care if she did not love him anymore. He walked towards her and kneeled in front of her. His eyes welled up and against all etiquette he took her hands from her lap and held them reverently. He hardly heard the warning ‘Aramis’ coming from Constance from the far corner. “Forgive me,” he pleaded. “I beg you, forgive me. No one told me. I had no idea. I understand that you must hate me now but I beg for your forgiveness.”

She blushed and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. “I do not hate you,” she said softly. And then added almost in a whisper, “Aramis.”

On hearing his name on her lips, he pressed her hands to his lips. She got up and took her hands away from him. He followed her suit. He was looking at her searchingly. “I wouldn’t have left if I knew. You have to believe me, Ana. Please, please forgive me!” he urged her in an earnest whisper.

She turned away and took a few steps towards the window. “I think it is the time for you to go,” she said in a whisper.

There were no words to describe what had been happening in his heart. He was overjoyed , overwhelmed with love and sheer bliss. And he needed more time with her.

He took a big step towards her. “Ana,” he whispered. “We need to talk,” he instinctively grabbed her elbow and turned her to face him.

“ARAMIS!” both Constance and d’Artagnan cried and this time he heard them. He froze but also because he saw tears in her eyes.

 

VVV

 

Constance had literally dragged him out of the Queen’s parlour. She was fuming. “I’ve told you we couldn’t be long. Which also meant ‘don’t do anything stupid’, and what do you do? You grab the Queen. Honestly, Aramis.” She walked on in a huff. Then she stopped. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked furiously. D’Artagnan was looking at him sheepishly.

He looked at his two friends but his mind was elsewhere. “I need to think,” he said finally and quickly went towards the gardens. As he was walking away he heard their voices.

“I haven’t finished what I wanted to say to him and he can’t just walk about freely in the royal gardens,” Constance said.

“Constance, let’s leave him be for the moment, all right?” replied gently d’Artagnan.

He felt numb and wandered aimlessly for a while. When he found a stone bench shaded by the rosebushes, he sat and tried to gather his thoughts. He thought that his mind would explode any moment now. He kept running his fingers through his hair. He hardly had a proper look at Philippe, that quiet child playing with his toy soldiers. And he was his son. How could he not know this? She must have been pregnant during their ordeal with Rochefort. Why did she not tell him? Perhaps she did not know herself at the time. He understood now why she was so angry and distant with him. She felt abandoned. And she had every right to feel that way. For all she knew he had left to be a monk and she was alone with her problems.

And he… he never even spared a single thought to Philippe, he acknowledged his existence and that was all. There were no words to describe the depth of his guilt he felt. He thought that he missed a big part of the Dauphin’s life but there was a life he missed altogether.

He had two sons! Two sons with the woman he loved above his life and the one who loved him once. And he could not be with them. It seemed like life kept punishing him. He felt almost angry now. The King was married to her, but there was more Aramis had in connection with the Queen than he. Then he calmed down. It was unfair to think that way. It was he who trespassed on the King’s marriage. It was he who committed the treason. His only excuse was that he did it out of love.

“I thought it was you,” he heard a voice above him. He looked up angry at being interrupted and quickly tried to change his attitude. Cardinal Mazarin was smiling at him gently. “I see that again I meet you at an importune moment.”

He stood up. “Cardinal,” he said in a quiet voice.

“I was wondering why a musketeer walks alone in the gardens,” Mazarin continued. Then a thought struck him, “Evidently I’m intruding, you are awaiting some companion perhaps?”

“No,” he answered brusquely, then he checked himself. “Not at all, Cardinal, I just needed some time to think.” He offered a small smile.

“Shall I leave you in peace then?”

The Cardinal’s voice was soothing and gentle, despite his previous misgivings about him, he had to admit that he rather liked that quaint man.

“Not at all,” he said. “I gather that you are well, Cardinal.” He smiled weakly.

“Oh, I am that, thank you. But it seems like you are in need of assistance this time, my friend,” replied Mazarin. “Is there anything I can do for you, Aramis?”

“Would you accept a confession, Cardinal?” he asked after a pause, again smiling wanly.

The Cardinal was clearly thinking about it for a while. “I would if that was your wish, naturally,” Mazarin finally said. “But I would like to think we may talk freely as friends, at least it is my sincere wish.”

The Cardinal seemed frank and kind but that was not the level of intimacy he felt comfortable with. He just smiled in response.

“No,” said the Cardinal suddenly. “I completely understand, it is definitely too early for that. But I hope in time we may be friends. Meanwhile, may I invite you for a walk? The summer is slowly coming to the end but there are plenty of sights still worth to see. Just like that formidable rosebush behind you.”

He could not help smiling. His anger subsided and his desperate thoughts were for a time pushed away to the back of his mind. They walked slowly reminiscing their time they spent at the monastery. He felt more relaxed now. “I have to apologise for my behaviour previously, Cardinal. My return to Paris was more troublesome that I had envisaged.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Aramis,” the Cardinal replied. “We live in troublesome times. And please call me Giulio when there are only two of us. That’s my actual first name, although here everyone prefers my French version, Jules. For some reason, I abhor it.” Aramis chuckled. “Giulio seems a much better fit and I like it better,” the Cardinal continued.

“I thought you might,” said Aramis amused.

“So was it women trouble?” asked Mazarin.

“Yes and no, to be honest. I have just received the news… I did not expect,” he said cautiously.

“Bad news?” the Cardinal asked with a genuine concern in his voice.

“Quite the contrary, I suppose,”

“Ah, in that case, my advice is to wait and watch how it develops.”

Their walk ended at the palace where the Cardinal expressed his wish to talk to him again. He even suggested the game of cards.

He laughed at that. “I’m certain that I can’t afford the stakes with my soldier’s pay.”

“Oh, my dear fellow, nobody can afford them,” Mazarin laughed gently, patted him on his back and disappeared into the palace. He was about to leave, when he saw Tréville, walking towards him in a brisk mode.

“What are you doing here, Aramis?” the minister asked him quickly.

“I was just…” he began.

“What were you doing with Mazarin?” Tréville interrupted him.

“Just walking and talking,” he replied surprised. “I’ve met him before at the monastery.”

“He’s a clever fellow. I can’t quite get him sometimes. Better be careful, Aramis, he was one of Richelieu’s men once.”

“I will, Minister,” he replied politely.

 

VVV

 

About two weeks later he found himself again in the palace as the guard detail of a birthday fête, this time it was in honour of Philippe, Duke of Anjou. His other son. He was elated that he would have an opportunity to observe him freely. However, it pained him a little to see that this fête was definitely less lavish than the one held in honour of the Dauphin. Upon his inquiry, he was told by Constance that the musketeers’ presence was demanded by the Queen herself. He held a small hope that it was done for his benefit, but even if not, he was grateful for this opportunity.

The child was happy and laughing loudly each time a new present was unveiled. He was looking at him from a distance. Philippe was a pretty child and quite affectionate. He hugged everyone who gave him a gift, each time evoking smiles from the royal couple. But it was clear that by far his favourite gift was presented to him from his mother, it was huge set of toy soldiers together with horses, guns and carts. All it was displayed in a separate room as a battle scene. Both boys took to it immediately and were allowed to stay there to play to their hearts’ delight under the eye of their governess.

He tried to be unnoticed by anyone and he slowly made his way to that room. He did not dare to enter it, he just stood outside in the doorway, and watched his two sons at play. He could not help it, after a while his eyes filled with tears. Then a figure stepped in front of him. The vibrant red was unmistakable.

“If I stand like this,”  said the Cardinal. “You will be able to look at him past me and everyone else will think that you are just facing me. Otherwise, everyone will notice a lonely musketeer staring at the royal children for no apparent reason.” Mazarin beamed at him with satisfaction.

He was at first startled by this directness from the Cardinal but then he smiled. “Thank you,” he whispered with emotion.

“There is no great sacrifice on my part. Let us face the truth. I was quite bored by this gathering.” The Cardinal winked at him. “But, my friend, you must at least try to keep your emotions in check. There is quite obvious look of a man in love on your face. I understand that your feelings are strong but showing them is dangerous.”

He could only nod in agreement. Then the Cardinal followed Aramis’s gaze focused on Philippe and turned his head to look at the children. At this moment little Louis and Philippe were at different corners of the room shouting happily to each other.

“Hmm,” mused the Cardinal turning to face him again. “I’ve only realised it now. I was thinking only the other day who Philippe reminds me of. Am I right then? You’re looking at two of your sons?”

He froze. “Cardinal…” he began.

“As I’ve said before, Aramis, you don’t have to worry about me. You saved my life. It is a debt that I do not take lightly. Hmm, at least that way, they are really brothers.” The Cardinal’s face got suddenly serious. “You are putting them both and the Queen in danger, Aramis. For the sake of them, please try to stay away. If I caught up on that, anyone else might do it too.”

He had to look down. He could not face Mazarin. Obviously the Cardinal was right. When he finally raised his head he was interrupted as the King passed them calling the Dauphin. “Louis, come, time for your daily pony lesson.” The Dauphin immediately dropped the toys and ran towards the King and held his hand. The King looked at them surprised. “Cardinal, what bizarre company you sometimes keep,” said the King icily, looking straight at Mazarin. “Your Majesty,” replied the Cardinal with a bow, “in my profession we have to meet people of all states in order to be useful to France.”

“And what profession is that, I wonder?” the King chuckled at his own joke and walked away.

“He is of silly disposition but deep down he is not a bad person really, I think” said the Cardinal in a whisper when the King was in a safe distance.

“So people keep telling me,” he replied and they smiled at each other. He was about to move away, when the Queen approached them and they both bowed. But she went past them. She picked Philippe up in her arms and whispered something to him, which the boy met with a brilliant smile. As she was passing them again, Mazarin addressed her so she stopped. “Your Majesty, this set of toys is truly magnificent. And very educational, I may add.”

“Thank you, Cardinal,” she replied.

“Pretty!” exclaimed Philippe, who leaned towards Aramis and reached with his hand to touch Aramis’s face. His heart was beating faster as he felt the little hand on his cheek.

“His Royal Highness has an exquisite taste, I see,” said the Cardinal good-humouredly.

The Queen looked embarrassed and looked down. Then she slightly nodded to them and walked away.

He stared after her. “Remember to breathe, Aramis,” said Mazarin in a quiet voice. Then he sighed deeply. “Even though your position is unenviable, I envy you,” said the Cardinal finally, then patted his back and walked away.

He was rooted to the spot. His child touched him out of his own will. And he could not be happier. He saw that she was right, looking into Philippe’s eyes he saw his own.

The hard slap on his back woke him up from his reverie. “What is with you? Have you seen a ghost?” asked Porthos in his booming voice. He smiled at his friend.

“I tell you, those new uniforms are like honey to the bees when it comes to the ladies at court,” said Porthos chuckling to himself. “The looks I’m getting from some of the ladies!”

“I’m happy for you, my friend,” he replied smiling.

“If I could be doing this kind of thing all the time, I’d be a very happy man, I tell you,” continued Porthos. It seemed that that day everyone was talking at him rather than to him but he did not mind he was quite happy with his own thoughts. “But I would need to fight someone from time to time to be truly happy,” added Porthos and they both laughed quietly.

 

VVV

 

He kept his promise to himself. He kept away from the palace. He was there only occasionally when Tréville wanted to see them. Instead, each time Constance came back from her visit with the Queen, he accosted her to tell him the latest news of the Queen. Constance started to treat him as a nuisance. “There’s no use asking me for all the details, Aramis,” she said one time, sighing deeply. “The Queen’s matters are her own and I’m not telling you anything.” She looked at him with a look of pity in her eyes. “But she asked about you today.” He opened his mouth to ask for some more information. “No, Aramis!” she prevented him. “She just asked if you were doing all right,” she added grudgingly after a pause. Then seeing him smile gently she said, “Let that not go to your head, she’s a kind person, she cares about the wellbeing of her acquaintances.” Even she could not keep a straight face at that moment and winked at him.

It was an exceptionally warm May that year. He took off his shirt and was sitting in the courtyard sunning himself, when Constance came with the message from Tréville that the three of them were to leave Paris immediately and meet General Verdet’s aide in Bourgogne. Without question they left only to be stopped half way by the Red Guards who demanded that Aramis were to go with them as he was summoned by the King to the palace. It was a little unusual but then he had no reason to disbelieve the summons.

When he arrived at the palace, he was greeted by the King in unusually drab and dreary clothes. The King informed him that he was to accompany him on the pilgrimage.

It surprised him, to say the least. “You are a man of god, Aramis?” asked the King.

He confirmed that he was once but that now he was the soldier and a loyal servant.

“Perhaps it is time to reacquaint you with your god,” replied the King. It sounded a little sinister but he could only bowed in response. They were to leave in an hour. As the King left, he looked towards the Queen. He had not seen her for so long and she was a sight for sore eyes. He tried to smile at her gently but then he noticed the sheer fear in her face. She was frightened out of her wits. He was confused. Was she frightened for him or was it something else that bothered her?

As he was waiting for the King, he took of his doublet and was given a cape by the servant. He presumed it would be expected to look somewhat as a pilgrim. However he absolutely refused to get rid of his weapons, despite the servant’s insistence. After some moments he saw the Cardinal coming towards him. But instead of a gentle smile that usually graced Mazarin’s face, the Cardinal was frowning. “I don’t like this,” the Cardinal said without preamble. “There’s a very unnerving atmosphere at the court today. Tréville has gone to the garrison and he still didn’t come back. And I can’t be certain but I can almost feel it in my bones that Marquis Feron is up to something.”

“So what do you expect me to do… Giulio?” he asked smilingly.

The Cardinal smiled back wanly. “I’m not sure. But… be additionally vigilant today. Protect the King, Aramis.” Mazarin’s voice was unusually earnest.

“That is my duty. But I’ll take you warnings to the heart,” he replied solemnly.

 

VVV

 

He could not be certain but he felt equally uneasy as the Cardinal during their short pilgrimage. At one point he decided to warn the King that their situation became too dangerous as too many were suddenly aware of their pilgrimage. The King insisted that before they return to Paris he wanted to visit the grave of his father, as it was the assassination’s anniversary.

When they arrived at Saint-Denis, the King insisted on going alone to the tomb, located in a special chapel within the cathedral, despite his wishes to accompany the King. He waited outside then and his uneasiness grew by the minute.

To his surprise and dismay he saw Governor Feron leaving the tomb, apparently he had been there before them. He was now angry at himself for listening to the King and not checking the tomb before the King entered it. He went quickly inside. He only hoped nothing happened to the King. The Governor saw him so he would not leave Aramis alive if his deeds were sinister. To his utmost relief he found the King alive and praying by the grave of his father.

The King said that he would apologise for the surroundings but then Aramis as a soldier and a priest was well acquainted with death.

“More than I’d have wished,” he replied sombrely.

“Yes, I, too, am acquainted with death more than I’d have wished,” said the King quietly. “Death has a grip on me. One I cannot break.”

When he realised what the King really said he could only say that he was sorry.

“I don’t want your sympathy,” replied the King. “That’s not why you’re here.” The King continued to say that he needed something from him to find his peace. And he told him to tell the truth. “You and my wife may think that I’m a fool but I am not a fool.” The King paused. “I know. Say it!”

He suddenly felt cold. The King might be dying but he still could do much harm to the Queen and the Dauphin. He felt for the King and wanted to ease his mind but it was a dangerous game they were playing. “It will serve no purpose,” he said calmly.

“You are a musketeer. You only exist to serve my purpose,” the King’s voice started to rise. “I’m ordering you!”

“Why dredge up the past?” he still tried to be calm.

“Admit!” the King cried. “Admit that you slept with the Queen!”

The quiet anger replaced the pity and reverence for the King. “I slept with the loneliest woman in Paris,” he said quietly walking towards the King.

“Don’t you dare make excuses!” the King was yelling now.

His patience was wearing thin but he tried to remain calm. “This woman suffered years of neglect and betrayal from your part. She endured you parading Milady de Winter through the palace. Shaming your own wife. Humiliating her.”

“You swore to protect me!”

“I am protecting you!” he yelled back in anger. Then he checked himself. One could not really yell at the King of France. “I am protecting you.”

“No longer,” whispered the King, then he informed him that what he had done was treason and for that he would be hanged.

As the King turned his back on him, Aramis left the chapel and sat in the pew. He looked at the crucifix hanging on the wall. “So that is why you wanted me to leave the monastery?” he asked the figure of Christ. “To face my punishment.”

He should have known that it would end like that. Initially the King surprised him but then he thought about it. The King was right, he had committed a treason which was punishable by death. He was ready if that was the god’s plan for him. His only anxiety was for the Queen and her children but he thought he saw in the King’s eyes that he only intended to punish him. That made sense. The King was dying and he would not leave this earth without a heir. The pride would not let him admit that the Dauphin was not his.

“Please, just keep her and the children safe if I’m not longer there to protect them,” he asked God.

Suddenly, just as the King walked out of the chapel, he heard a single shot. It rang not far from the cathedral. He started to run towards the door.  He hid behind the pillar and he almost froze when he saw a band of assailants coming to the church. He was not entirely certain but he thought that Grimaud, Governor Feron’s suspicious financier, was leading them. He shot one of them and started to reload the pistol. He did not like the odds he was seeing.

Then he was aware that the King followed him out of the church. That was the last thing he needed now.

“Give me a pistol,” demanded the King.

“Get back inside and lock the door!” he cried angrily, his eyes focused on the thugs.

“What?” asked the King. “Are you afraid I’ll shoot you?”

He had no time either to explain or quarrel with the King. He gave  him the pistol he just reloaded.  “I’m dying anyway,” mused the King. “What do I have to lose?”

He had to give it to him, he was unafraid and ready to fight. The Grimaud’s men were shooting at them from a distance. On the signal from Aramis, they replied. He knew that their situation was desperate. But then to his enormous relief, he saw the musketeers led by Tréville coming to the rescue, engaging the assailants.

Tréville ordered Aramis to take the King to safety, giving them the musketeers’ horses. Under the protection from the musketeers, they successfully managed to escape but the King stopped his horse near the trees where he saw the dead body of Governor Feron. Despite the pleas from Aramis, the King refused to leave Feron. After praising his half-brother for saving their lives by firing his pistol to warn them, the King stood up and walked over to Aramis.

“You will have no contact with the Queen or the Dauphin,” he said calmly to him. “He’s my son. Not yours. When he’s frightened or he falls it is me he seeks. When he hears ‘Papa’, it is my face he sees, not yours.” He listened closely as the King continued. It seemed that the King decided against hanging him. The prospect of which satisfied him, but at the same time, the words spoken by the King cut him to the quick. “And I will see to it that you play no part in his life. Even when I’m dead, you will not see him. I will make sure of that.”

That was to be his punishment from the King. He had to admit that he could not decide what was worse. This punishment was much more cruel and much more prolonged. His heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing again Anne or the children.

 

VVV

 

When Constance told him that the Queen wanted to see him, he almost did not go. Now, when the King confronted him, meeting her was even more dangerous than before. Perhaps the King really abandoned the thought of hanging him but his orders for Aramis were clear. But then he thought that it might be the last time he would be able to talk to her. He had to go.

He waited till it was dark, then slipped from the garrison unnoticed. When he reached the place, he was not sure if he were too late or too early. But then he heard the rustling of a material and he saw her coming towards him, she almost ran and his heart melted when he saw the smile on her face. “I was afraid you hadn’t got my message,” she said breathlessly.

He had to be firm. “He knows,” he said in a deep voice.

She stopped suddenly a few paces before him, her smile disappearing instantly. Then she nodded as if she was told something she had already known. He saw the paralysing fear in her face as she realised the potential consequences. “The King will banish me. He will take away my sons from me.”

 He tried to calm her. “I don’t believe he intends to punish you…”

“You don’t know how things have been between us,” she interrupted him.

“No,” he replied calmly. “But I do know how men behave when they are facing death.”

“He… he is dying?” she asked in disbelief. She started to sob and staggered, he rushed to support her.

Then he understood. “He hadn’t told you?” She shook her head. His heart went to her, she was distraught but he had to warn her. He told her that she needed to prepare, the court was against her but she needed to be ready and strong. She had to be for her son, the Dauphin, the future king of France. She listened to him avidly and he knew that she was really hearing him, which was important. He saw the fear and anxiety in her face but he also knew that she would be capable of going through with it, she was strong, wise and tough. She endured so much already, he believed she would be able to cope with it. And he wanted her to know that as much as could he would always be for her. He took her hand and kissed it tenderly. Then he placed it on his heart. “You’re not alone,” he whispered. He knew he should not stay too long, he walked away quickly.

But after few steps he looked back. She was still standing there sobbing quietly. Against his better judgement, he went back. He took her by the waist and led her to the shaded corner when no one would see them. She clung to him immediately and he put his arms around her. She sobbed quietly into his chest and he tried to soothe her by gently stroking her head. After a while he heard the sobs subsiding and she started to breathe more evenly. Then she raised her face to him. He could hardly see her due to the darkness they stood in.

“Was it this you wanted to talk to me about earlier?” she asked weakly.

“No,” he replied quickly. “There were other things I wanted to discuss but there’s no time for that. The King expressly forbade me to contact you or the Dauphin. This may be the last time we ever talk. He promised me that he would make sure I wouldn’t be seeing the Dauphin.”

The tears started to run down her cheeks again as far as he could see in the dim light and he pulled her tighter into the embrace.

“If we are not see each other again you have to come with me now,” she whispered.

“Go where?” he asked confused, pulling away to look into her face.

“You said you wanted to talk…”

“Ana, I don’t think it’s a good idea…” he began.

“The Queen is ordering you,” she said with a weak smile.

 

VVV

 

Once again he climbed the winding stairs and followed her through the narrow corridors. They stopped before her door. She turned to him. “You have to wait now,” she whispered. “I need to get rid of my maids.” He nodded and she disappeared behind the door. He waited a long time, listening to the muffled voices behind the door. At one point he thought that perhaps he should better leave but then he remembered that he had no keys, the Queen took them with her.

He sat there thinking what he wanted to ask. He had nothing to say, he needed to know more about his sons. Then the door was finally opened. He walked slowly in. She had changed her clothes, she was in her nightgown and her hair was down. Once again he marvelled at her exquisite beauty. She stood by the fireplace and the fire light was reflected in her shiny hair.

Even though not that long ago she was in his arms, she was distant now. she avoided his gaze and she tugged nervously at the sleeve of her peignoir. 

“I really don’t think I should be here now…” he began.

“Well, but there you are,” she interrupted. He thought that she sounded annoyed.

“We can talk freely now,” she said quietly after a pause. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

That caught him off guard. “Tell you? … There is nothing to tell,” he replied without thinking. She looked at him sharply. “I mean…all I wanted was to ask about you and our… sons,” he continued meekly when he realised how uncouth he sounded. 

“So there is no explanation of your behaviour?” she asked somewhat accusingly, finally meeting his eyes.

“Explanation?” he was dumbfounded. “I… I thought I have explained…”

“I did not mean explaining why you left but … why… why you betrayed me,” she said looking into the fireplace.

He was speechless. Of all the things he thought himself to be guilty, a betrayal of her never even crossed his mind. “Ana?”

“I am no longer certain you are allowed to call me that!” she suddenly raised her voice. “It was the name that I was called by someone who I thought… really loved me. But it seems that I was really one of many.” She continued in anger. “I should have known, I should have known that giving my heart to the famous libertine would end like this. I… I… you broke my heart, Aramis!”

It seemed that he had to fight both royals on the same day. and as with the King, the anger rose in him again. He was conscious of her pain, he felt it acutely but at the same time, he could not stand being accused of betraying her. “Ana…”

“Don’t call me that!”

He tried to remain calm but his voice was rising. “I will call you that because that is the name of the woman I love.” She tried to interrupt him. “No, Ana! That’s the truth and deep down you know it! I have never betrayed you and I never will because…”

“How can you say that?” she managed to interrupt him after all. “What about Marguerite?!”

He did not expect that. In all honesty he forgot that Anne learned about his unfortunate liaison with the governess. He took a deep breath.

“Ana,” he began, trying to be as calm as he could. “There is no day that I don’t regret my actions as far as Marguerite is concerned. I was a fool, and it was cruel. I should not have…”

“You led me to believe I was the only one,” she interrupted again.

“Because you were!” he raised his voice again despite himself. “And you are,” he added more calmly.

“I never loved Marguerite, I only approached her because I wanted to be close to the Dauphin. I used her. I behaved abominably, I admit it. But it was finished before we… before we started to meet again.” She was still breathing heavily but now her eyes looked at him searchingly. “There is no one in the world I love more. _T_ _ú eres el alma de mi coraz_ _ón._

“I want to believe you,” she said weakly.

“I cannot make you,” he said mellowing as well. “You decide. But that’s the truth.”

They just stood there silent, looking into each other eyes. The only sound being the crackling of logs in the fireplace.

He felt that he had to say something that would clear the air between them. “Remember how you asked me if I meant what I said in the gardens when we confronted the madman?”

She nodded.

“I think it’s time to tell the truth,” he took a deep breath. “I’m yours. … Are you mine?”

“Always,” she whispered immediately.


End file.
